


paradise (it's in your eyes)

by hargrovebuckley



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Gay Billy Hargrove, Hand Jobs, M/M, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Billy Hargrove, Stranger Things 2, billy finds out about the upside down, chef’s kiss!, literally the opposite of a slow burn, meant for it to be a slow burn but here we are, not a slow burn, this tag immediately after me saying this was supposed to be a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22376281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hargrovebuckley/pseuds/hargrovebuckley
Summary: Billy looks at him, blinks slow with a sly grin stretching his lips. “Heard you used to be king around here.”Steve huffs out a small laugh. “Yeah, and I heard you already took that title from me.”Billy’s smile only grows that much more. “Oh I don’t know. I’m sure this place is big enough for two kings.”-or; S2 au in which Steve and Billy grow a connection at the Halloween party, and things go from there.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 55
Kudos: 640





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> whew... this story is NOT COMPLETE but i do have like 6k more written... just needed to post this part
> 
> i am very unreliable so if you don't like wip's that don't get updated right away... well then
> 
> i just really like au's where steve and billy get together at the halloween party what can i say
> 
> title from american money by BØRNS
> 
> all mistakes are mine

_It’s bullshit._

_You’re bullshit._

Steve leaves Nancy in the bathroom and makes his way back into the party, dazed and tipsy. Not a good combo. His entire world just crumbled at his feet.

_Like we’re in love_. 

Steve’s not worried about Nancy. He remembers stalking past Jonathan Byers when he rushed out of the bathroom; Byers is probably with Nancy right now, comforting her and stealing her away ( _can someone Steve didn’t even have be stolen from him?_ ) so he’s not concerned about her. It’s himself he has to worry about getting home. He’s not in the right mind to drive, but he’ll make the effort to. Steve’ll do anything just to get out of this place full of drunk upperclassmen, shitty booze, and broken hearts.

Stumbling through sweaty bodies in various stages of dress, Steve makes it down Tina’s front steps when the figure leaning against the right beam calls out to him.

“Leaving so soon?”

Steve turns, and sees the new kid, the one from California, the one who stole his title of Keg King. Steve watches as he takes a drag from his cigarette, chest still bare and damp despite the chilly weather. Maybe Californians run hot.

Steve huffs out a breath and gives a wry, bitter smile. “Got nothing to stay for.”

The guy hums. “Not even a new face?”

Steve squints at him. “Hargrove, right?” Steve may have heard his name floating around, might have overheard Tommy start a chant to cheer on his record-breaking keg stand.

Hargrove smiles like the cat who caught the canary. Steve can’t imagine what the guy could have possibly won. “Yeah. Billy Hargrove.”

Steve walks a little closer, stretches out his right hand. “Steve Harrington. Welcome to Hawkins.”

Billy looks down at Steve’s outstretched hand, slowly raises his own palm to clasp Steve’s. He holds on for a while, makes eye contact.

“Yeah. I know who you are.”

Steve’s the first to let go; gets a feeling that, if it were up to Billy, their hands would have stayed clasped for a long time. Doesn’t know what compels him to go along with whatever game Hargrove’s playing. Just knows he’s not too keen on leaving so soon anymore.

“What else do you know about me?”

Billy looks at him, blinks slow with a sly grin stretching his lips. “Heard you used to be king around here.”

Steve huffs out a small laugh. “Yeah, and I heard you already took that title from me.” Shuffles a bit closer.

Billy’s smile only grows that much more. “Oh I don’t know.” Reaches an arm up to brace against the column and turns more toward Steve. “I’m sure this place is big enough for two kings.”

Steve is saved from stumbling his way through a response, not even sure of what he would have possibly _said_ , by the front door opening behind him. He turns to see who it is, reluctant to look away from the boy in front of him.

When he catches sight of who came out of the house, he immediately wishes he stayed in his little bubble with Billy, despite feeling way out of his depth with no life jacket.

Jonathan has one hand on the door knob, the other braced around Nancy’s waist with her arm thrown over his shoulder.

Now that he’s looking, it’s like he can’t look away. Just has to get his momentarily broken heart hurt even more. Air stalls in his lungs when Byers looks up and finally sees Steve. Byers grimaces and holds onto Nancy more tightly, looks down and away to focus on getting her down the steps.

He hasn’t done anything wrong, is just helping out a friend, but he looks guilty, shifty. Like he got caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.

Steve feels Billy shift behind him, trying to peer at what stole Steve’s attention away. And it’s not like Steve forgot about Billy, there’s no possible way for him to forgot about the weird and new energy developing between them.

But for the second that Steve was distracted away from Billy, he felt like shit, the lowest of low. Rock fucking bottom.

So Steve decides _fuck it_. If Nancy Wheeler thinks he’s _bullshit_ , that their relationship is _bullshit_ , then he doesn't need to worry about her right now. She’s clearly got someone else looking after her, definitely interested in her.

Steve’s got someone interested in him, too.

He turns back to Billy, smiles a charming smile, maybe a little fake at the corners, but as real as it’s going to be in this moment. Leans down that one inch he seems to have over the other, and asks, “Can I bum a cigarette?”

Billy’s still smoking the one he was working on before Steve came out of the house with intentions to leave, but he hasn’t touched it since they started talking. Like he found something better to do with his mouth.

He drags hard while he gets a good look at Steve, studying him, trying to read him and maybe connect the dots between him and the two people that have now made their way to Jonathan’s shit car on the street.

When Steve begins to frown, wondering if he said something wrong — _what could be wrong with asking someone for a cigarette? —_ Billy drops the smoke to the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out what can only be a blunt between two fingers. Says, “Are you sure you don’t want something even better, King Steve?” with a lazy smirk.

Steve smiles and laughs a little, claps a hand onto Billy’s shoulder. “You and I are going to have no trouble sharing a throne, pal.” Walks down the stairs to start heading to the Beemer so they can smoke in there, maybe hotbox for a while.

He doesn’t hear footsteps behind him when he makes it to the lawn, so he turns around to see Billy watching him. He’s leaning a bit into the space Steve just left with a dazed look in his eye, but the grin that never seems to leave his face is still there. He starts to make his way after Steve when he notices Steve looking, and throws his arm around Steve’s shoulders when he reaches him.

“Nah,” Billy says. Stays staring at Steve as they trek toward Steve’s car. “We’re going to have no problems sharing at all.”

When Steve reaches the car, Billy’s arm still over his shoulders, he contemplates sitting in the front seats or in the back. The driver and passenger seats seem like the normal place, for two people to sit and shoot the shit, but the back is far more roomier.

Plus, the back doesn’t have the buffer of the gear shift between them. Steve’s not looking to stop Billy from keep some sort of body contact. He can’t explain why.

Decided, he unlocks the back door behind the driver’s seat and climbs in across to the other side, rests his back against the window with his left leg tucked under him and his right stretched out.

Billy folds in after him and mimics his pose. Where his knee bends it touches Steve’s, and their legs resting on the ground are tangled together. Steve doesn’t make any move to shift away.

Pulling a blue lighter out of his jacket pocket, Billy holds the unlit joint between his lips and brings the flame up to the tip. The orange glow reflects in his eyes as he keeps his hand still until the cherry ignites. Billy takes a deep pull to start it off, and holds the blunt out to Steve as he exhales to the front of the car, the air growing hazy.

Steve reaches and his fingers touch Billy’s as he grabs onto the joint to take his own hit. Billy watches with low-lidded eyes as Steve’s cheeks hollow on the inhale.

Coughing a little, Steve says lowly, not wanting to break the strange but pleasant vibe they’ve settled into, “This is good shit, man.” Billy doesn’t verbally respond, just hums and smiles.

When Steve offers Billy the next hit, Billy doesn’t take it from him. Instead, he leans forward to take a pull directly from Steve’s hand, lips touching fingertips.

Steve gasps sharply, quietly. Billy’s lips are warm; a little chapped, but soft nonetheless.

They’ve barely taken their eyes off of each other this entire time, but now the stare between them is more intense, more charged, more hypnotizing, _more more more_.

Exhaling, Billy questions, “You ever shotgun before?”

Steve chokes on his spit. “Uh- I mean… I have? Just- It’s been.. it’s been awhile though. Like a _long_ while. But yes. Yes I have shotgunned before. Weed that is.” _God kill him now._

Billy smiles throughout Steve’s nervous ramble, like he finds Steve’s embarrassment _cute._ He takes a small hit after finally accepting the blunt into his own fingers and passes it back to Steve. “We should try that next time then. I’m sure it’ll be better than you remember.”

Next time. Like Billy plans on continuing this.. whatever _this_ is between them. And why would he want to stop? It’s not like Steve’s told him to fuck off. Or that Steve even wants him to.

“Yeah.. yeah next time sounds good.”

His grin flourishes, like it was watered by Steve’s agreement to a future smoke session (getting high together is _not_ a date, no matter how intimate it may be).

They finish off the joint until it’s practically nothing, Steve taking the last hit. The atmosphere forming between the two of them is as heady as the soft haze they sit in. The only noises are coming from the house party happening behind them, forgotten. Steve forgot to turn the radio on, and he thought it would be weird, smoking weed in the quietness of his car, but it wasn’t. The silence just enhanced the experience, Steve and Billy’s first time together.

With the dead roach done, there’s nothing to preoccupy them. Billy doesn't let things get awkward; they’re too buzzed from the weed and whatever alcohol they drank for there to be any uneasiness anyway. He prompts Steve into talking with, “Who were they?”

Steve wants to act stupid, play the dummy that everyone — his parents, his teachers, Nancy — believes him to be. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Is a little scared of what might come after.

Excited for the what if, too, though.

“My girlfriend. The guy I thought she cheated on me with.” _The two people I hurt a monster with._

Billy’s face twitches at the words ‘girlfriend’ and ‘cheated’. Steve can’t read too much into the tick, is too comfortable to anyway, before Billy molds his face back into a mask of curiosity.

“Girlfriend?”

“Maybe more like ex-girlfriend, now.” _Bullshit._

And Steve’s not _too_ out of it to see the spark that correction brings to Billy’s eyes. Is all too happy to read too much into this time.

“Ex, huh. And the guy she’s going home with. That sucks, man.” The sentiment is there, but Billy doesn’t seem too sympathetic, eyes still glinting with something like opportunity.

Steve shrugs. “Honestly, dude? I’m too fucking high to give a shit right now.” He smiles when Billy laughs at his honest drawl. He shrugs again. “I’m sure it’ll hurt like a bitch to think back on tomorrow, but you and your shit are a good distraction.”

“Only good?” Billy teases, tongue making a tiny appearance again, peaking through his smiling teeth.

Steve _hmm_ s. “Great. The best, even.”

Billy practically beams. “Always happy to help you out, amigo.”

Steve laughs. “ _Amigo_. God, man you’re so cheesy.”

Billy mocks offense, tone jokingly hurt. “How is that _cheesy_?”

Gesturing toward him, Steve explains with a playful grin, “The tan, exotic Californian speaking Spanish? You’re a cheeseball.”

Billy smirks lazily in response. “Espero que no seas intolerante a la lactosa, cariño.”

Steve guffaws. “Oh no way! Are you fluent?”

Billy brings his left shoulder up in a small shrug, keeping his left against the back of the seat. Remains nonchalant even though Steve can see him preening a little bit.

“Moved to San Diego when dad remarried. Lots of hispanic people there. Kinda had to learn just to be able to order actual good food.”

Billy tells Steve a little bit more about California, about how he and his friends would wake up at 4 o’clock in the morning just so they could surf as the sun rises, how sometimes he didn’t have enough money for lunch so his best friend always had extra empanadas or tamales packed with his. How Billy bought his step-sister her first skateboard because his dad didn’t want her being “too boyish”.

Steve listens to Billy’s stories and watches as he gestures with his whole body. Steve shifts so his knees are drawn to his chest, folding his arms on top so he can rest his chin. Watches Billy with a rapt yet soft gaze, a content smile gracing his lips.

Billy’s in the middle of telling a story about how he and his step-sister, Maxine, got lost in a mirror maze on the boardwalk, how his nose was bleeding from bumping too many times into the panels, when he stops suddenly. Takes a look at Steve and his grin, his own tentative smile appearing, and asks, “What are you staring at?”

Steve startles a little at getting called out, but doesn’t try denying anything. Just tells him, “You.”

It seems like anytime Steve says something like that, Billy’s smile only becomes more genuine and big.

“And why were you staring at me, Harrington?”

“I was having a really crappy night. I thought running into you would only make it worse, at first, but this is honestly the best time I’ve had at a party in awhile.” Steve pauses to throw Billy a smirk. “Even though you did steal my crown from me.”

Billy laughs with his full body, and, still chuckling, reminds Steve, “I thought we said we’d share the throne.” Billy stretches the leg folded under him until the toes of his boot touch Steve’s sneaker.

The words and renewed contact make Steve feel warm. He nudges back at Billy with his foot and says, “Yeah. We did.”

*

The two of them spend the rest of the might hiding out in Steve’s car, feeding their high with a bottle of whiskey Steve dug out from his glove compartment. They cracked the back two windows to air out the smoke, and for the cigarette Billy starts.

At some point they hear Tommy come out of the house calling Billy’s name, trying to get him to do another keg stand. Billy slouches so low in his seat to hide, their choked laughter filling the car. They’re so loud there’s no point for Billy to try to lie low. Tommy’s too drunk and focused on his search to pay them any attention, lucky for them, and goes back into the house when Carol drags him away.

Steve starts yawning around 2am, whiskey bottle put away and air cleared to try to sober up for the drives back home. Billy keeps glancing at his watch and frowning, so Steve prompts, “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Steve nods at Billy’s wrist. “Oh, nothing. Just… I just really don’t want this night to end.”

Steve takes the other boy in, with his dangly earring tangled in his messy mullet, his sweaty chest and bloodshot eyes. Thinks about how Steve definitely doesn't look any better, about how early he has to get up tomorrow even though he’ll probably have a sleepless night.

“Yeah. Me neither.” The happy spark that admission brings to Billy’s eye causes Steve to ask, “Do you want to go to the diner with me? Finish sobering up before we go home.” Never mind the fact that they've been practically sober for the past hour.

Billy takes a moment to answer, looking at Steve, just looking. Steve already knows Billy won’t turn him down, but he exhales in small relief when Billy agrees.

“Yeah, I could go for some food right around now.”

*

“I can’t believe you think waffles are better than pancakes.”

Steve scoffs. “Waffles are by far superior! They are literally made to have pockets to hold syrup. Pancakes are fucking flat so there’s less of them, making waffles the better of the two.”

They had gotten to the 24 hour diner located at the edge of town 15 minutes ago, each taking their respective cars. They’re sitting at a booth in the corner of the empty place, Billy with coffee in front of him, Steve with water.

The lone waitress, a middle-aged woman named Molly who’d been working there since Steve was in diapers, had taken their order, looking none too happy to see a couple of tipsy teenagers at a quarter to three o’clock in the morning. Had greeted them with, “Don’t you boys have school in the morning?” She didn’t wait to hear whatever lie they came up with before she asked them what they wanted.

Steve had ordered waffles and a chocolate-vanilla milkshake, and Billy wanted pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and hash browns. They’ve been arguing over pancakes vs. waffles before Molly had left to place their orders.

Billy glowers at Steve, but there’s a smiling fighting to show. “Okay, but pancakes don’t have to be flat. There’s a Japanese restaurant back ho- back in San Diego that had fluffy pancakes as thick as small cakes.” _Back home_.

Steve catches the slip, asks Billy, “Do you miss it? California?”

Billy huffs unhappily. “Yeah. The entire drive here I was so angry. I grew up there, you know? California is who I am. I hate the fact that I had to up end my life to come to the middle of nowhere.” He pauses. Throws Steve a small smile. “I guess the people here aren’t so bad, though.”

Steve smiles back warmly. “I can’t imagine having to leave everything I know. I know that Hawkins isn’t anything special” — besides the flower monsters from another dimension — “but it’s where I’ve been my whole life.” Steve stops to think about what he wants to say next. Curiosity keeps bubbling and he can’t fight the question from escaping his mouth, “What made you come here?”

He can actually see Billy shut down, how light leaves his eyes and makes them a dull grey, how fast his ever-present smile drops off his face.

Growing nervous, feeling bad, Steve rushes to say, “You don’t have to tell me.”

Billy dropped his eyes to the table when Steve asked, but now he flicks them up to peer through his eyelashes. Glances back down to where he’s picking at the band of his wristwatch.

“I don’t mind telling you.” Takes a breath. “The official story is that my dad’s job transferred him here.”

“And the unofficial one?”

Billy chuckles, but it’s not a good sound. “My dad caught me... doing something I shouldn’t have. Especially not with him around. He didn’t want me to feel tempted to continue, so he moved us out to bumfuck hickville.”

Steve reaches across the table to still Billy’s fidgeting, gently rests his right palm on top of Billy’s hands. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to, but you did and I appreciate it”

Billy stares at where their hands are touching. “I didn’t even tell you anything. Just gave you some vague shit answer.”

“And that’s enough for me.” He pokes the back of Billy’s hand. “Really. You don’t have to go into details, but if you ever do want to explain why to me, I’m willing to listen.”

Billy turns his left hand over and grasps at Steve’s, slides until their fingers are interlocked. Squeezes until it hurts and then releases his hold. His voice is rough when he says his thanks, like he’s choked up at Steve’s sincerity.

Billy lets go of his hand two seconds before Molly comes back with their food, placing their respective plates in front of them with a soft clatter. She tells them to enjoy and to holler if they need anything else, before turning around to go into the kitchen.

They dig into their meals, and Steve doesn’t know if Billy is as hungry as he is, but the way the blond shovels his eggs into his mouth suggests he might be.

Steve gets caught staring _again_ because Billy chuckles and gestures to the left side of his mouth, informs him, “You got a little something...”

Steve wipes at the right corner, but nothing is on the back of his hand when he pulls away. Billy clucks his tongue, and reaches across to thumb at Steve’s lip, cleaning the stray drop of syrup up.

Steve blushes, and then blushes harder he can practically feel the heat coming off his body when Billy pops his thumb in his mouth.

“Uh...” Steve gapes at the other boy, thrown off by the intimate touch. Billy must realize what he just did, because he gets just as red to match Steve.

Taking his thumb away from his lips, Billy poorly defends himself, “You just... you didn’t get it the first try. I was just helping you out.” He breaks eye contact and stares resolutely ahead, an angry furrow in his forehead.

“No, um...” Steve begins. “It’s, uh, fine.” Billy snaps his gaze back to meet Steve’s. “Thanks.” He gives a tentative quirk of his lips.

Billy relaxes, his shoulders lowering from their hunched position by his ears; Steve didn’t even notice him tense up.

Nodding at the food, Billy encourages, “Go on, Harrington. Eat up so we can maybe get a few hours of sleep before school.”

Steve nods back and tucks into his waffles, taking a break to sip at his shake between bites.

When Billy moves onto his pancakes after devouring the eggs and potatoes, Steve asks, “How come we haven’t had any classes together since you enrolled?”

Waiting to swallow, Billy replies, “You’re a senior, right?” At Steve’s nod, he continues, “That’s why. I’m a junior.”

“Oh,” Steve says, a little disappointed.

Billy smiles. “Don’t be so sad, pretty boy. I’ll be sure to find you in the halls.” He winks.

“I’ll make it easy to find me,” Steve assures him, laughing.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be able to sniff you out.” Billy sounds smug, more pleased now that Steve made it known that he _wants_ to be found.

They finish their meals, flagging Molly down so they can at the least get a couple of hours of sleep before school. She drops the check on the table and Steve immediately drops a twenty and a five to cover the bill and tip. Billy starts up a protest, but Steve says it’s for the good weed and the good time.

“If you feel real bad about not paying, then you can just pay next time.”

Billy grins and his eyes crinkle at the corners, his nose scrunching up with the happy look on his face. “It’s a date.”

They walk to where they parked next to each other, Steve leaning forward against the driver side door, facing where Billy rests against his arms along the roof of the Beemer with his back to the Camaro.

“Thanks for the food, pretty boy.”

“Thanks for the distraction from what could have been one of the worst nights of my life.”

Billy smiles. “I’m happy to be of service.” He gets off the car and turns to open his door. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Steve watches Billy climb in and rev his engine; showboating even though Steve reads the time on his watch to be 3:54an. Billy has no shame when he catches the scorn look Steve throws him at the noise, just revs again with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Steve shakes his head and gives the other boy a two fingered salute. He clambered behind the wheel as Billy backs up and speeds off down the road.

Steve takes his time to follow; he already knows he won’t sleep tonight, too much on his mind. He’ll probably lay in bed overanalyzing the entire interaction between him and Billy this night, and try not to get his hopes up for something that may not happen.

He’s doesn’t want the time night where he was able to pretend to be a dumb teenager again end, but he also can’t wait to see what the next day entails.

*

Like Steve predicted, he didn't get a wink of sleep, too busy both looking forward to seeing Billy at some point in the day, and dreading running into Nancy.

He can postpone the latter though, because he won’t be picking her up for a ride to school today. He’ll leave that task to Jonathan.

The extra time given to him since he doesn’t have to leave earlier than usual gives him the opportunity to make some Eggos and down two cups of coffee. He can feel the beginning bass of a headache forming so he swallows two pills of Ibuprofen and starts getting ready for the day.

He may not be the king anymore, and he may not have Nancy to look good for, but there is someone he wants to impress.

*

When Steve pulls into the school parking lot, Billy’s blue Camaro is already there. As he cruises closer, he sees that Billy and a red-headed girl are arguing, throwing heated words and rude gestures at each other. The girl finally throws her skateboard on the ground and pushes off toward the middle school, middle finger up in the air. Billy stomps out the car and slams his door, quickly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He takes a harsh drag as Steve pulls into the empty space to the right of him.

When Steve gets out after grabbing his bag and rounds the car to stand next to Billy, he still looks angry if not calmer. His cigarette is already halfway finished and Steve plucks it out of his hands, ignoring his indignant _hey!_ of protest. Whatever, Steve thinks. The action made Billy smile, so Steve counts it as a win.

After handing Billy back the cig to finish it off, Steve nods toward the middle school. “That your sister?”

Billy huffs hotly. “ _Step_ -sister. Yeah, that’s Maxine. Little shitbird.”

“Everything alright with you two?”

“That’s none of your concern, now is it, Harrington?”

Steve snaps his eyes back to Billy from where they were wandering around the filling parking lot. Billy looks pissed off, a little red in the cheeks, due to anger or the wind chill Steve can’t tell, but he’s willing to put money on the former.

“Jeez, dude, alright. Just curious is all.”

Billy groans. “Dammit. I’m sorry, man. Max and I.. we just know how to get under each other’s skin. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He shifts guiltily on his feet.

“Apology accepted.” Steve pauses, then let’s a smile tease his lips. “But only because it’s funny to watch you squirm.”

“Oh fuck you,” Billy laughs. “Man, I’m so fucking hungover. Are you sure we can’t just skip and go back to the diner?”

“Dude, no. Isn’t only your third day here? You can’t be ditching already.”

Billy scoffs. “Come on. You’re telling me _King Steve_ never cut class in the beginning of the school year? That’s sad.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he starts walking toward the school entrance. “Of course I have. But I don’t wanna today. I have gym second period and that’s the only class I’m actually good at.”

“You have gym second period?”

Steve turns around to where Billy is trailing after him. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Is your hangover affecting your hearing, too? Do we need to get your ears checked?”

Billy mimics Steve’s earlier eye roll back at him. “You’re such a _bitch_. I’m asking because I have gym second period, too.”

Steve smiles, feeling giddy. “No shit? Billy, man, that’s great. Ugh, I can’t wait to show your ass up at basketball.”

Billy throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders, steering them through the doors and where his locker is. “Ha, you? Beat me at basketball? I’m a fucking _beast_ , you won’t even be able to keep up.” He stops and opens his locker, taking out a textbook, a couple notebooks, and a soft back copy of _1984_. Steve can’t remember that book being required to read last year.

“Whatever, man. We’ll see how that goes.” When Billy locks up, he turns to Steve and Steve starts leading the way to his locker at the end of the hallway.

“Wait,” Steve thinks about it. “If we’ve had gym together this entire time, why didn’t I see you the last two days?”

“Because I wasn’t in class,” Billy explains. “The first day, I was in the main office setting everything up with the guidance counselor so I missed like four periods. And then yesterday, well,” Billy smirks, tongue pressed to his teeth, “Yesterday, I just didn’t feel like showing up. Came in around third period.”

“Dude,” Steve shakes his head. “What’s stopping you from skipping today if you’ve already done it?”

“Well that was before I knew I had class with King Steve.”

The hallways are full of students, either all hanging out at lockers or just fucking around before homeroom starts. A few look miserable to be there, particularly the ones Steve recalls seeing going too hard at Tina’s last night.

He sees them watch as he and Billy walk down the hall, overhears a few whispers wondering why they’re together when _Billy broke his record last night_ and _Steve isn’t king anymore._

As if that would make Steve stop hanging out with someone, over a dumb, stolen high school reputation.

Steve dials in his combo when he reaches his locker, Billy leaning on the row to the left of him.

“What do you even have first period?”

“English,” Steve replies, grabbing his college application essay and his copy of _Hamlet_. “You?”

Billy shows Steve the textbook: _trigonometry_ it reads.

“Dude,” Steve says, eyes round. “I’m taking trig this year. How are you taking it as a junior?”

Billy lowers the book and shrugs his shoulders. “I was taking it back in Cali. I’m in a few advanced classes.” Billy sounds _shy_.

“Drop it, Harrington,” Billy says gruffly. “So I’m in a few AP classes. Doesn’t mean shit.”

“Stop being humble, man. I think it’s great.” Steve closes his locker and leans against the door, head tilted down toward Billy. “Those classes are gonna look great to colleges. You should be proud.”

Billy’s cheeks get rosy, and he looks up at Steve through his lashes. Opens his mouth to reply. Steve’s eyes are drawn to the motion.

Billy, however, is interrupted before he can answer.

“Maybe Billy here can help you study, Stevie boy. God knows you’re too stupid to get into college without your dad paying your way in”

Tommy clasps a hand on Steve’s left shoulder as Cody sidles up behind him, snickering.

Steve tenses at the touch, then shrugs Tommy’s hand off. He turns to face Tommy, not all the way, but enough so Steve can look at him and tell him to “Fuck off.”

“Ooh, did I hit a nerve?” Tommy mockingly backs off. “Saw Wheeler leave with the freak last night. Now that she’s done with you, you gotta run off to the next person who can give you a chance at actually being smart?” Tommy and Cody both laugh.

Steve smiles sharply to hide the small sting that gave him. “Don’t you have Carol’s skirt to crawl back into? Or was that someone else I saw you feeling up last night?” Steve pauses to think about it. “You know, maybe Carol would know. We should ask her!”

Tommy glares at him, grinding his teeth. “You say a fucking word to her, Harrington, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

Steve turns to Billy, startled at the coldness in his voice. It’s a tone he hasn’t heard the blond use yet. Doesn’t know what it entails.

Tommy stares at Billy with his mouth open. “What?”

“Finish what you were gonna say. What are you gonna do to ‘Stevie-boy’ if he tells your bitch you cheated on her?” Billy poses it as a question, but the words out of his mouth fall flat, no emotion behind him.

Or maybe too much emotion. Steve catches Billy clenching his fists, sees him stand up straight and tall with his feet spread and planted, sees his jaw clench. Sees Billy get angry on Steve’s behalf.

“Uh-” Steve starts.

“No, Steve, I’m curious.” Billy smiles a shark smile and steps into Tommy’s face. Tommy shrinks back a bit. People are starting to gather around them. “What _are_ you going to do to Harrington if he tells Carol? Or, better yet,” here, Billy chuckles. “What would you do to _me_ if I told your girlfriend myself that you’re a two-timing dick?”

“Come on, Hargrove, man.” Tommy smiles awkwardly, his laugh tinged with a nervous high pitch. “I thought we were cool. You’re the new King! You don’t need to be defending this loser-”

“Now see, the only loser here is you. Stevie, here,” at this, Billy throws an arm across Steve’s shoulders, drags him into his side. Steve throws an arm around Billy’s waist on reflex. “Stevie doesn’t like cheaters. Thinks they’re sad little dogs who don’t deserve second chances. And _I_ am inclined to agree with him.”

Billy steps away from Steve to get back into Tommy’s face, shoves him hard in the chest. Tommy stumbles back into Cody’s chest. “So why don’t you run off to your girl with your scraggly tail tucked between your legs and beg her to forgive you.” Stalks a little bit closer. “And if you threaten my friend here again, I’m gonna mess you up worse than Carol is.”

With that, he turns and walks away, pushing his way through the crowd that’s clustered around them.

Steve scrambles to collect the books Billy dropped in his successful pursuit to intimidate, throws Tommy the middle finger, and follows Billy.

The bell rings and the students disperse to their homerooms, but Steve continues after Billy, who’s gone into one of the boys’ bathrooms. Steve locks the door behind him when he enters, bends down to place their books on the floor, then stands up to lean back against the door as he watches Billy pace.

“Billy…”

“I don’t like the way he talks shit about you, Harrington,” Billy fumes. “Never even spoke to you and all he was spouting at the party was how much of a pussy you were because Wheeler turned you bitch. God, that’s guys a fucking prick.”

“I know. I was friends with him for twelve years.”

Billy stops pacing. “ _How_?”

Steve shrugs. “We grew up together. We grew up to be assholes together. So we stayed friends. Then I realized I was too much of an asshole and stopped hanging out with him.” Steve hesitates. “Yeah, it was kinda because I was dating Nancy and I wanted to focus on her and our relationship, but once I realized how I was acting when I was with him, I dropped him.”

Huffing, Billy says, “Well, at least Miss Priss was good for something. Don’t know what I would have done if I was stuck with him only for a friend here instead of you. God, what a _dick_.”

“Dude, he’s really got you worked up,” Steve observes.

“Uh, duh.” When Steve doesn’t get it, Billy goes on to say, “He can’t talk to you like that. You shouldn’t let him say crap like that about you.”

Steve rakes a hand through his hair, looks over Billy’s shoulder to stare at himself in the mirror. “I’m used to it. He’s been ‘jokingly’ saying stuff like that since freshmen year. It just got more malicious since I basically dumped him for Nancy.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” He quickly walks to where Steve is still against the door, leaves a foot of space between them “If I have anything to say about it, Tommy won’t be bothering you anymore.”

A little annoyed, Steve states, “I don’t need you defending me. I can take care of myself, I’m not a fucking child.”

“Harrington,” Billy starts, only to change tactics, “ _Steve_. I know you can take care of yourself. Doesn’t mean I have to let some jealous douchebag say crap about my friend.”

The fight rushes out of Steve, leaving him vulnerable and feeling strange. He reaches out his hand to Billy’s left hip, grasps at Billy’s t-shirt to balance himself.

Billy hesitates at the touch, but closes the distance left between them slowly, until their shoes are almost touching, until Steve has to tilt his head down to actually see Billy’s face. Billy places his right hand on the door next to Steve’s head, gently touches Steve’s neck with the other.

The breath stalls in Steve’s chest when Billy shuffles that much closer, rests his forehead softly against Steve’s. Steve feels the pulse rapidly beating in his throat, is positive Billy feels it too where his fingers are slowly taking a path up Steve’s neck to his jaw.

“You gotta know, Steve,” Billy breathes out. “I’ve only known you for a day, but you gotta already know you’re the best thing in this hick town.” He shakes his head, knocks it against Steve’s. “I won’t let anyone do anything to the only thing making me actually happy here.”

Steve brings his hand up to clutch at the curls at the back of Billy’s neck, pulls him in closer. “I don’t… Billy, I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never- not with another guy. Nancy…”

Billy tenses at her name, tightly shuts his eyes. He goes to pull away, but Steve doesn’t let him move, keeps him pressed where they’re pressed against each other.

“Steve, I won’t- not while you’re still somehow involved with her. I won’t do that to myself.”

“No, Billy, I- listen. I-I didn’t know what I was feeling last night, with you. But now, _now_ , I do. And I like you. Me and Nancy, we’re done. She doesn’t love me, she said that. I’m not with her anymore. _Billy_ ,” Steve pleads when he feels the other boy shaking his head again. Steve cups Billy’s face in his hands. “Billy, I’ve only known you for a day but you make me feel so _good_.”

Billy smiles ruefully. “Does she know that? Wheeler was out of it last night.”

“I’ll make her know it. Billy, I will.” Steve nudges Billy’s nose with his own, shares a breath with him. “Please...”

“Steve.” Billy gently pushes Steve back, lets Steve’s hands fall to his shoulders. “I believe you. But until then, nothing happens. You gotta get over her. I won’t be a rebound.”

Steve lets out a shaky gust of breath, pulls away from Billy to push his hair out of his face.

“Okay... Okay, that’s fair. Yeah.” Steve smiles weakly at him.

Billy smiles back, just a shaken, and chuffs Steve tenderly under his chin.

“Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get to homeroom before they mark us absent.” Billy unlocks the door and holds it open for Steve. He mockingly bows and says, “Since your Highness is so adamant about not skipping.”

Steve laughs, the sensitive tension dissipating between them. “Alright, alright, tough guy.” He shakes himself a little, picks up their books and walks out the door. Billy follows and takes his things from Steve’s hands, letting the touch linger before moving away.

Once in the hall, they stand there for a moment, just looking. Studying whatever is growing between them, stagnant at the moment but nonetheless blooming.

Breaking the spell, Billy throws Steve a wink, and saunters backwards, smirk gracing his face.

“See you in gym, King Steve. Can’t wait to dominate you.” Steve starts sputtering at Billy’s word choice, and Billy throws his head back on a laugh. “On the _court_ , jeez, Stevie, you’re too easy.” He turns around to continue to his classroom.

Steve calls after him, “Shut up! You’re literally doing that on purpose, Hargrove!” Billy waves a hand over his shoulder and turns a corner, disappearing from sight.

Steve collects himself, then heads to homeroom. He’s gotta focus, get himself together. Too much happened in such a small period of time, but he won’t let that distract him until later.

Now, now he’s got to focus himself to he can beat Billy in second period. Surely Billy can’t be better than Steve at everything.

Right?

*

Steve underestimates Billy’s skills severely.

Billy, for lack of other word, _dominates_ Steve in basketball.

The second coach blew the whistle to signal the start of the game, Billy was on him. Basketball is a no contact sport, but that doesn’t seem to stop Billy from pressing his bare chest to Steve’s back, attempting to steal the ball. He distracts Steve enough with a particularly close grind, teasing words about “King Steve’s head isn’t in the game”. Steve’s blood is pumping, sweat sliding down his neck.

Billy grabs the ball from around him and runs down the court, shows off with a lay up.

He walks back toward Steve, tongue wagging out of his grinning mouth. Steve feels hear zing throw up at the provocative gesture.

He grins at Billy from where he’s bent over, resting his hands on his knees. Is about to reply when he hears his name called from the back entrance to the gym. Spins around and sees Nancy standing at the doors, books clutched to her chest, lips set in an angry pout.

He turns back to Billy to watch the smile drop of his face at the sight of her. Billy looks back at Steve, face blank.

Steve, not wanting Billy to be upset, but knowing he has to follow Nancy, pulls a face, hopes it conveys how much he does not want to be stopping their game to go talk to her.

Billy must get it because grins, pivots to the other players and taunts, “Let’s go, ladies. One of you has got to make this a challenge for me.”

Steve rolls his eyes at Billy’s gloating and trails behind Nancy as she walks outside.

She finds them a convenient little alley to have this conversation in, hidden from the students who decided to run around the track instead of play basketball. Saving themselves from the humiliation of playing against Billy.

Steve doesn’t stall, doesn’t wait for Nancy to get the first word in. Asks her, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” Nancy snaps back. “Where were you this morning? I missed first period.”

“I figured Jonathan would take you.”

That throws Nancy. She questions, “Wha-What are you talking about?”

Steve shakes his head a little, scoffs out, “Jesus, you really can’t handle your alcohol.” Tilts his head back and starts, “Uh… you remember going to Tina’s party last night, right?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, and then what?”

Nancy thinks about it. “I remember dancing, and spilling some punch.” She throws Steve a look. “You got mad at me because I was drunk… and then you took me home.”

Steve scoffs again, and takes the towel off from around his right shoulder; starts wringing it in his hands, fidgeting. “No, see, that’s where you mind gets a little bit fuzzy.” He puts the towel around his neck, holds onto the ends. He squints his eyes shut. “That was your other boyfriend. That was… that was Jonathan.”

Nancy looks off to the side and shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s pretty simple, Nancy. You were just telling it like it is.” Voice bitter, smile small and self-depreciating.

“What?”

“Uh,” Steve shrugs and redistributes his weight. “Apparently, uh… we killed Barb and I don't care ‘cause I’m _bullshit_ … and our whole- our whole relationship is _bullshit_ , and, I mean, pretty much everything is just _bullshit_ , _bullshit_ , _bullshit_ ,” he ticks off on his fingers. Nancy watches with a hurt furrow between her brows.

“Oh, yeah, also, you don’t love me.”

On the defense, Nancy exclaims, “I was drunk, Steve! I don’t remember any of that.”

“So that makes everything that you said- It’s what? Just bullshit, too?” Steve lashes out.

“Yes!”

“Well, then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

Steve falters, eyebrows scrunched up in pain. “That you love me.”

Nancy scoffs, disbelieving. Mockingly says, “Really?”

A door bangs, and look to the mouth of the alleyway when they hear a call of, “Harrington!”

Steve looks and sees Billy standing there, shirt still off and chest glistening in sweat. When Billy notices he has Steve’s attention, he smirks a bit and says, “Come back on it, man. You’re the only worthy player in this stupid hick town.” He doesn’t verbally acknowledge the tension shifting between the couple, but he throws one of his arms out wide, making a space for Steve by his side if he needs it. “Let’s go.”

“Alright.” He turns back to Nancy, watches her mouth gape at a loss for words. When she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reassure him with a phony declaration of love like she’s been doing for months, he turns to go where Billy’s waiting for him. Tells her, hopes it cuts her like it did him, “I think you’re bullshit.” Reaches Billy and puts his right arm at the small of his back, where the sweats collecting. Feels Billy place his arm around his shoulders, sides pressed together; a shift and he knows Billy’s taking a quick glance at Nancy.

Billy steers them back to the gym, but before they enter he asks, “You okay?”

Steve waits to reply, actually thinks about his answer. Takes stock of how he’s feeling, how angry he’d been, how stupid Nancy makes him feel sometimes. How knowing Billy came out looking for him, is now asking how he is causes him to feel better, a little flicker of light in his heavy chest.

“Not really.” Slides his hand around Billy’s hip and tugs him that small inch closer. “But I will be.” Smiles tiny but genuine down at the other boy.

Billy grains back at him, that peak of tongue between his teeth that Steve is getting used to seeing. “Good,” he says, squeezes at the back of Steve’s neck, then claps him between his shoulder blades. “Now, come on, pretty boy. Let’s show these rednecks how it’s done.”

Steve laughs, and follows him in the gym, throwing his towel onto the bleachers. Let’s the game and the adrenaline and Billy take his mind off of getting his heartbroken.

Funny thing is, it doesn’t hurt as much as Steve expected it to.

*

After the period ends, Steve and Billy go their separate ways. They don’t have anymore classes together, despite Billy’s advanced placement, and they don’t share lunch.

Steve goes through the rest of the day in a daze. He catches people looking at him with both sympathetic eyes and jeering stares, some feeling sorry for his and Nancy’s break up he has no idea how they heard about, others gleefully watching as a has-been king further loses his crown.

When the final bell rings, Steve rushes out of Econ to go to his locker. He’s shoving things in when a jean-clad arm drapes itself over his shoulders, his space filling with the scent of cologne and cigarettes.

“Pretty boy,” Billy greets.

“Tough guy,” Steve says back.

“You ready to talk about what happened with Wheeler earlier, or are you gonna keep stringin’ me along?”

Steve slams his locker and grabs Billy’s wrist form the arm around his shoulders. Tells him, “Not here,” then drags them outside to the parking lot.

He walks to the Beemer, Billy’s wrist still in his hand even though the other boy is keeping pace with him. He only drops it when they reach his car, Steve going into the driver’s seat, Billy breaking away to the passenger’s side.

Steve doesn’t keep Billy waiting.

“We broke up.”

“Shit, Steve,” Billy says, genuinely sympathetic, though God knows he doesn’t have to be.

“She couldn’t even remember what happened last night,” Steve goes on to say, staring blankly ahead. “She remembers getting plastered and spilling her punch, but she doesn’t remember anything after that. Not our fight in the bathroom, not calling me and our relationship _bullshit_ ,” he spits out the word.

Billy just listens, doesn’t make a move to interrupt. He does, however, turn his entire body toward him, legged tucked underneath him. A hand finds its way to Steve’s knee, the heaviness of it a comfort.

Steve laughs as he continues. “I almost gave her a second chance. Asked her to tell me she loved me, just to see what she would do. I knew she wouldn't be able to. I didn’t even want her to.” He shakes his head, fighting back the moisture that’s gathering in his eyes. Nancy doesn’t deserve his tears. “It still hurt, though, when she didn’t.”

“Steve,” Billy says. “Drive us somewhere.”

When Steve looks at him, confusion evident on his face, Billy explains, “I can’t kiss you in a busy parking lot, pretty boy. That’s just suicide.” He creeps his hand up higher on Steve’s leg, squeezes at his thigh.

Steve gulps, nodding. “Uh, okay. You, uh, you don’t have anywhere to be?”

Billy shrugs. “I’m supposed to drive Max home, but I’m sure she’s playing with all her new little friends. She’ll appreciate the extra time with them.”

Steve nods again and finally puts his keys into the ignition, turns the car on. The heat blasts on as Steve puts the car in reverse, throwing his arm on the back of Billy’s headrest to look over his shoulder as he back out.

He speeds out the parking lot, and Billy whoops next to him, squeezing at his thigh again. Billy’s hold on him only makes Steve that much faster.

It only takes them four minutes to get the quarry, another three to find a secluded spot to park the car in. During the drive, Billy played with the radio until he found a station playing Bowie, his voice crooning through the Beemer’s speakers. Steve had dropped one his hands from the wheel at some point to tangle with the one Billy has on his thigh, and they clutch at each other every few minutes, anticipation coursing through them.

Steve finally pulls the car behind some bushes, hidden from drivers on the main road. Putting the car in park but keeping it on, if only for the background noise and heat to keep them warm.

He turns to Billy, finding the other boy already looking at him, small smile on his face. Steve matches it, and moves his left hand to cup Billy’s cheek. Billy nuzzles into the hold and presses a kiss to Steve’s palm.

When Steve doesn’t make a move to move any closer, Billy clutches at Steve’s wrist with his right hand and grabs the back of Steve’s neck to tug him across the center console, murmurs a “Come here” onto Steve’s lips.

Their mouths rest a hairs width apart, Billy’s nose bumping into Steve’s as they breath the same air. Billy has his eyes closed, and Steve goes cross eyed looking at him, taking the picture of this handsome boy in front of him and searing it into his brain.

Steve’s the one who bridges the gap, no longer content to wait anymore. Billy smiles against his mouth like he was waiting for him, too, and it makes their first kiss awkward, but all the more genuine.

Steve presses several kisses to Billy’s lips before Billy gets with the program, stops smiling to properly kiss Steve. Their mouths move together, and Steve sighs into it, bringing up his other hand to run it through Billy’s hair.

Billy moans when Steve pulls at his hair, the kiss growing heavier, slicker with a hint of tongue. He tugs at Steve, and Steve finds himself climbing over the console to straddle Billy’s thighs, Billy’s hands now at his hips as they continue to kiss.

“Mmm, Billy,” Steve breathes, trying to pull back. Billy chases him, doesn’t let his mouth stray too far from Steve’s, his hands tugging Steve’s hips closer. Steve groans at the heat between them, their heavy breaths fogging up the car.

He finally gets a between them and places it on Billy’s chest, pushes him back into the seat. 

Billy’s eyes are blown, his cheeks red with a blush. His hair is wild from where Steve had run his hand through it, and his chest heaves under Steve’s palm. If Billy looks this messy and debauched, Steve can’t imagine what he looks like; has to stop himself from thinking about how they’d look if they kept going.

“I know you, uh, wanted to wait ’til me and Nancy officially broke up, but maybe we should wait a bit before we move things along further.”

Billy stares up at him for a moment, before Steve’s words finally seem to reach his brain. He breathes out and says, “Yeah, shit. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s, uh… let’s take things slow. I want to take things slow. Sorry.”

Steve laughs, cups Billy’s face again and kisses him quick on the lips. “Don’t apologize for wanting to kiss me. You’re very much welcome to continue doing that.” Billy chuckles along with him, returns Steve’s peck with one of his own.

“Maybe if you don’t want to continue at this pace for now, you should move,” Billy says, playing with the hair at the back of Steve’s neck with one hand, the other at the small of Steve’s back.

Steve shifts his position atop of Billy, both boys letting out small groans.

“Yeah, hah… that’s, uh, that might be a good idea.” Steve scrambles back to the driver’s seat, knocking his knee into the steering wheel. Billy laughs at his clumsiness.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, see where that gets you.”

Billy just laughs harder. “Don’t be like that, _baby_.”

Steve shivers at the pet name, throws back, “Then don’t make fun of me, _honey._ ”

Steve actually _sees_ Billy’s eyes dilate a bit more. Interesting.

Billy collects himself enough to say, “I’m not _making fun of_ you, pretty boy. You just make me laugh.” He shrugs, ears turning red.

“Aww,” Steve coos, scooting forward to smack a kiss to Billy’s lips, a loud _mwah!_ falling from his mouth.

Billy laughs harder and pushes Steve away with a palm on his face. Steve licks him in retaliation. 

“Oh, _ew_ , you’re fucking disgusting,” Billy cringes back, snickering.

Steve gives him a deadpan look. “Literally the first time we met you were covered in your own spit and beer.”

“And yet I still looked hot,” Billy says lofty, chest puffed up.

“Well, yeah,” Steve agrees, thinking back to last night, Billy bare-chested and cocksure. How he stalked up to Steve with what can now be recognized as hunger in his eyes. Steve shivers. “But that’s besides the point.”

Billy arches an eyebrow. “And what’s your point, princess?”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“Ooh, baby, scold me some more. It’s getting me hot,” Billy purrs, leaning in Steve’s space.

Face flushing, Steve tilts forward, but not enough to touch. “Billy,” he breathes out.

Billy grins, leans in that much more until his kiss-swollen lips are almost pressed to Steve’s, only to change course for his cheek. He presses his lips there, then blows a raspberry. Steve sputters away as Billy laughs again.

“Billy!” Steve screeches, swipes at his cheek to wipe the spit away, his face scrunched up in mild disgust.

“God, you’re too easy,” Billy chuckles.

“Ugh,” Steve says, and catches sight of the time on the dashboard. “Shit, don’t you have to pick up Max?”

Eyes widening, Billy checks the clock. “Fuck,” he says under his breath.

Steve puts the car into drive, not bothering to buckle nor checking to see if Billy did, driving out of the quarry.

They make it back to the high school around a quarter to five, find Max waiting by the Camaro. Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson are standing with her, Steve recognizing them from nights he spent at Nancy’s while Mike hosted Dungeon and Dragons parties. Steve parks a few spaces away.

“Fuck, why is she with _him_?”

Steve turns to Billy, sees him grinding his teeth. “With who?”

“ _Him_ ,” Billy emphasizes. Gestures toward the three kids.

Steve gets it then, gets that he mean Lucas. His gaze hardens and his voice is cold. “ _Billy_.”

Billy looks at him, eyes widening when he sees the harsh look on Steve’s face. “No, _no_. Not me. I don’t care who she hangs out with, but my dad- _Fuck_ , my dad will literally…”

Placated for the moment, Steve reaches over and puts a hand on Billy’s where he’s clenching his fist on is thigh. “Your dad can’t do anything about it if he doesn’t find out.”

Billy laughs harshly. “He _always_ fucking finds out, Steve. There’s no hiding anything we do from him.”

Billy climbs out of the car before Steve can respond with an empty reassurance, and Steve scrambles to follow, jogging to reach Billy long strides.

The kids see them before they reach the car, and Steve has to wonder how mean Billy’s face looks with the way they shrink back.

“Maxine,” Billy clips out. “Get in the car. You’ve spent enough time with your friends.”

Max bristles at his tone. She opens her mouth to snark back, but snaps it shut when Billy snarls out a, “ _Now_.”

Billy rounds the car and slams the driver’s door shut after he climbs in as Max says a quiet goodbye to Lucas and Dustin. Steve watches this unfold in front of him, then snaps into action when Max shuts the passenger door behind her. Steve goes over to Billy windows and stand there with his hands on his hips until Billy lowers the window and leans out, glares up at him.

They don’t say anything for a minute, just staring, the tension emitting off of Billy overwhelming. Finally, Steve braces a arm along the roof of the Camaro and leans down, places his fingertips lightly against Billy’s forearm where his jacket sleeve is rolled up. Billy flinches a bit, but the fight drains out of him at the contact. Steve sees Billy’s eyes soften as he looks up at him.

“Call me later?” Steve asks.

“Don’t have your number,” Billy mumbles out, but searches for a napkin in the center console. He hands that and a pen over, watches as Steve writes down the seven digits, using Billy’s arm as a surface.

Steve searches his face, takes in the way Billy’s breaths have slowed down, before handing over the paper. His eyes skim over to Max, arms crossed over her chest, but she’s watching the exchange with an intrigued look. Steve smiles at her and she gives a curious one in return.

Steve steps back when Billy revs the engine. Billy calls out a “Talk to you later, pretty boy,” as he speeds away, heavy metal blasting out the rolled down windows. Steve’s waving to the retreating car when Dustin and Lucas come to stand next to him.

They watch the car until it disappears. Steve clears his throat, then jumps a little when he finds Sinclair and Henderson staring at him intensely.

“What?” Steve defends.

“What were you doing with _him_?” Henderson demands to know.

Not wanting to answer, Steve deflects with, “Well, what were you doing with _her_?”

Henderson back pedals, stuttering out a reply, before Sinclair squints up at him and says, “Touché.”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Do you two need a ride or what?”

They race to his car in response, fighting over who has shotgun. Steve rolls is eyes again as he walks to the Beemer and climbs in, tells them he’ll talk them for milkshake if they both just get in the back of the car, settling their argument.

God, what is his life?

*

Steve gets the call from Billy just before midnight.

He’s laying in bed trying to sleep, but failing. He’s been staring up at the white color of his ceiling for twenty minutes when the phone on his night table rings.

Steve reaches overly blindly and feels for the phone, finding it on the third ring. He brings up the receiver and murmurs out a, “Hello?”

“Steve,” Billy says, voice low on the other end. Steve shot up, sitting in bed with the comforter bunched up around his waist.

“Billy, hey-” Steve starts only to quickly be cut off.

“Listen, we can’t talk on the phone. My d- we… we just can’t. Can we meet up somewhere?”

Steve thinks about it, where they can go at this late hour. Obviously he can invite Billy over to his house since his parents are still gone on whatever business trip they left for at the beginning of the month, but he doesn’t think the empty, cold atmosphere of a silent home is what Billy needs right now. Billy’s voice is just a whisper over the line, but Steve notes the stiff way the other boy speaks, and just knows he needs to be out of unwelcoming houses.

“How does the diner sound?” Steve asks.

Billy breathes out. “Yeah, that sounds perfect. I’ll see you in thirty?”

Steve agrees and hangs up, and goes downstairs to bundle into a scarf and to throw a coat on over his pajama pants and t-shirt. He toes on sneakers and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him as he heads out.

He gets to the diner before Billy, living closer to the edge of town than the other boy. Molly is there again and she lets out an exasperated sigh at the sight of Steve at a late hour for the second night in a row. Steve gives a sheepish smile and claims the booth he and Billy sat in the night before.

Ten minutes later Steve’s sipping at his water when he hears the roar of Billy’s car pull into the parking lot, not caring about the loudness disturbing others. There’s no one else to bother; Steve’s the only customer present, and it looks like it’s just Molly and a single cook manning the place.

Billy stomps into the restaurant, huffing when he sees Steve and marches over. He’s wearing different clothes than earlier, his leather jacket thrown on top of a muscle tank and sweatpants. He has his fingerless gloves on, but otherwise he’s not dressed for the weather. Steve doesn’t know how he doesn’t feel the cold.

Billy slides into the booth across from him, taking his gloves off with his teeth. He mumbles out a “hey” around the leather.

“Hey yourself,” Steve says, taking in the pink painted on Billy’s cheeks from the bitter wind. “Feeling better?”

Billy nods, looks across at Steve with a small smile on his face. “Now that I’m with you, yeah.”

Steve smiles back and hooks his right ankle around Billy’s under the table.

Molly comes over then, says, “Boys,” disapprovingly.

Billy waves her off with a charming grin, the same one from last night he aimed at her. Vows that they won’t make a habit of coming in so late anymore. All three of them know it’s an empty promise.

When Molly continues to glower at him, Billy takes the menu from Steve’s hand to peruse it. 

Steve orders chicken tenders and fries for himself. Billy asks to make the fries a share for the both of them, and asks for a chocolate milkshake, please and thanks.

Molly walks away, shaking her head and when she goes into the kitchen, Steve looks over at Billy, finally taking a good look at him. He looks more tired than he did earlier and there’s a sort of red mark on his cheekbone.

“You ready to talk about earlier?” Steve asks.

Billy huffs. “Not really, but it’s not like I have a choice, do I?”

“I’m not forcing you to tell me,” Steve says back.

“Nah, I know. But I don’t want you thinkin’ anything bad of me. I’m not.. I’m not racist,” Billy says vehemently, jumping right into it. “My old man. Bastard might actually kill someone if he heard about his perfect, new daughter seen around town with a black boy.”

Steve’s blood goes frigid when he hears that. “He’d actually hurt Lucas?”

“Lucas, me… maybe Max. Doesn’t matter who. Someone’s getting beat up. Someone always does.” Billy gestures toward the mark on his cheek and Steve takes it for what it is: a slap. Steve can see that the impression is from a ring covered hand, and will probably bruise in a few hours. It’s already turning a bit purple in the middle.

“He _hit_ you? Why?!” Steve hisses, keeps his voice low though there’s no need. They’re still the only ones in the main part of the restaurant. This just doesn’t feel like something he should speak loudly about.

Billy shrugs, playing with a sugar packet. “Neil didn’t like the fact that I brought Max home late, even when she tried to explain she was the one who kept us late.” Head lolls to the side. “She doesn’t even know what he does to me, yet she still covered for my ass.”

Steve’s gut clenches at the casual way that Billy talks about this, about something so heavy and cruel. 

Steve’s hand covers Billy’s, an echo of the day before, and Billy glances up with him with a smile, but his eyes are dull.

“Why don’t you run away?”

Billy intertwines their fingers. “Can’t,” he says. “Car’s under his name and I don’t have enough money. Gonna get a summer job and then work through senior year, start saving up. Maybe head back to Cali.” He reveals the last part with a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s thinking of the oceans and palm trees back home, yearning for it.

Steve squeezes at Billy’s hand. “You can always come over to mine, if you need to get away.”

Billy clutches back at him. “I might just take you up on that offer.” He releases his hold, hearing Molly come out of the swinging door attached to the kitchen.

They dig into their food, picking at the fries in the middle. Steve wants to dump ketchup all over them, but Billy outright refuses. Steve fake gags when Billy dips his fries into his shake, Billy playing it up by smacking his lips and chewing with his mouth open.

They don’t linger in the diner this time, and Steve pays for the bill again. Billy thanks him by kissing him in the dark of the night outside, leaning against the Camaro that’s parked next to the Beemer.

Steve gets home at 1:30am on the dot, and he’s able to actually fall asleep for the five hours he can, Billy’s promise of seeing him in the morning still tingling on his lips where Billy pressed them between kisses.

*

Steve drives into the school parking lot the next day to find Billy’s Camaro already there. Billy and Max are talking, Billy leant on his side against the passenger door with Max in front of him, arms crossed. Max doesn’t seem to be enjoying the conversation, Steve observes from where he’s parked a few spaces down, but she also doesn’t seem to be angry.

Max nods at whatever Billy’s saying, pout prominent on her face, but throws an arm around his middle when he pulls her in. Billy moves back and ruffles her hair, Max screeching in outrage while Billy chuckles.

Sensing that the serious moment is done, Steve gets out of his car and makes his way over. Max spots him before he reaches them, eyes widening and then smirking. She says something to Billy, to which Billy must object to. He pushes her away by her face, Max stumbling back a bit but not falling, laughing all the while.

“Hey Steve!” she calls out, obnoxiously waving.

Steve smiles, fond and confused at the same time. “Hi Max. What’s up?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Shitbird’s being an annoying brat; nothing new.”

Max sticks her tongue out, throws back, “And Billy’s being an asshole, but that’s not new either.”

Steve laughs. “I’m well aware.”

Billy mocks outrage while Max laughs again. 

“That’s no way to treat me, pretty boy.”

“Oh, and how _am_ I supposed to be treating you?”

Billy smiles sly, sidles up closer to Steve and hooks a finger into his belt loop, hidden from prying eyes by the cars they’re standing between. “Mmm, I’ve got a few suggestions.”

Steve’s eyes snap to Max, who’s gagging at their display, and then he looks back to Billy with a question in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about her,” Billy explains. “She knows about us just like I know about her little crush on Sinclair. We’ve come to an agreement.”

“A dumb agreement,” Max grumbles under her breath, back to pouting.

“Dumb, but necessary,” Billy reminds her, tone no longer playful.

Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. She makes her way past them to grab her skateboard from the back of the car, then gets on it after dropping it on the ground. “See you two lovebirds later,” she says over her shoulder as she starts to skate away.

“Sinclair touches you and he’s dead!” Billy calls after her, only receiving a middle finger stuck up in the air in response. He rolls his eyes again.

With Max gone, turns to Billy and asks, “What did you two agree about?”

Billy blows out a breath. “That we both need to be careful. She’s gotta make sure Neil doesn’t catch wind of her and Sinclair, and I,” Billy tugs at Steve’s belt loop again, “have to make sure no one gets any gay vibes between us.”

“Uh huh. I don’t think this,” Steve gestures at their proximity, “is doing anything to keep our secret.”

“Don’t you know, baby?” Billy smirks, and smooths a hand down Steve’s chest. “I like to live on the edge.” He pushes back on Steve’s chest, dislodging his hold and moves away, grabbing his bag from the back seat as he goes. He leaves Steve behind to head toward the school.

Steve stares after him, wondering what he’s getting himself into. Billy and Nancy are complete opposites — but are they really? Billy wears his fire on his sleeve, on display for the world to see, while Nancy keeps it hidden until an opportunity calls for it. Steve thinks back on Nancy slapping him, on Nancy calling him out on his _bullshit_.

God, maybe Steve has a type.

“Pretty boy!” Steve snaps out of his reverie, blinking over at where Billy is waiting for him a few feet away. Billy arches his scarred eyebrow. “You comin’ or what?”

Steve huffs a little, grin growing on his face. “Yeah, I’m coming, big guy.” He walks over with his bag slung over his shoulder, and knocks his other into Billy’s. “Lead the way.”

Whatever craziness Steve’s getting into, he’s looking forward to it.

*

Steve dozes during homeroom and first period, making time go by faster, the clock counting down when Steve can see Billy again.

When the bell rings to signal the end of English, Steve books it out of the room, heading to the locker room.

It starts filling up with a few of Steve’s classmates, all changing into gym uniforms. Steve’s just pulling his shirt on over his head when Billy enters, hearing him before seeing him. He’s laughing with one of the other juniors, Drew, as they make their way over to their lockers. Steve watches them pass by, and Billy catches him staring, throwing him a subtle smirk and a not-so-subtle wink. Steve rolls his eyes, but a blush graces his face and he turns back to his locker to put his bag away.

They end up on different teams again, Billy not surprisingly on the skins team, while Steve remains on shirts. The teams are divided up pretty evenly on skill set, since Coach saw how good Billy was yesterday. Steve’s with Cody and three juniors he couldn’t be bothered to remember the names of, and Billy’s with Drew and Tommy.

Only a few students stay in the gym for the game, half of the class going outside to run along to track and enjoy the last of the nice weather, before the chill really starts to set in. Steve thinks maybe he should have done that instead, after Tommy’s knocked him down for the second time.

Steve glares after him as he and Cody snicker to each other at Steve’s clumsiness. A hand reaches into his space to help him, and Steve tracks up the arm to see it belongs to Billy.

Steve clasps his hand, but before he’s pulled up, Billy bends down into his space. “You were moving your feet,” he starts, and Steve stares up at him with wide eyes at Billy’s low voice and proximity. “Plant them next time, draw a charge.” Finally, he helps Steve up and claps him on the back, smirking a little.

Steve pushes him away with a smile on his face. “Jesus, do you ever stop talking, man? Come on.”

Billy laughs as Coach calls for the game to continue. “Alright! Alright, alright! King Steve.” Billy catches the pass Drew throws him, dribbling the ball at his side. “King Steve, everyone. I like it. Playing tough today.”

“Dude, shut up,” Steve throws back, getting into a defense position, keeping Billy’s advice in mind. 

Billy chuckles again. “What, you afraid the coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh? You don’t gotta worry, pretty boy,” Billy reassures him. “I wouldn’t try out for the team if you weren’t on it.”

Steve’s distracted by the warmth that sends through him, only to be blindsided when Billy rushes him, knocks him off his feet to make the lay up. Drew comes over to high five him while Billy makes his way over to where Steve’s laying on the ground, winded.

Billy helps Steve up again. “Thought I told you to plant your feet.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to the game.

They play for almost the rest of the period before Coach blows his whistle, tells them they have fifteen minutes to shower and change before the bell rings.

The boys all shuffle into the locker room, a few heading to the showers while others just change straight out of the gym uniform into their street wear.

Steve goes to his locker and grabs small bottles of soap, shampoo, and conditioner. He drapes a towel around his waist after he’s undressed, heading over to one of the empty stalls. Unwraps the towel and hangs it on a hook on the wall before going in and starting the water, hissing at the cold temperature. When it warms up, he squeezes some shampoo onto his hand and scrubs it into his hair.

Eyes closed, he hears two more stalls next to him start up. It’s quiet for a few minutes, Steve washing out the shampoo and then massaging conditioner into his scalp. His head is under the spray when the silence finally breaks and he hears sniffling to his right. Billy’s next to him, with Tommy across, staring a little too hard at the two of them.

“Don’t sweat it, Harrington,” Billy says, head tilted back. The pose draws Steve’s attention to the long, tan line of Billy’s throat. Makes him want to sink his teeth in. “Today’s just not your day, man.”

“Yeah,” Tommy laughs, throws himself into a conversation where he’s unwanted. Probably trying to put himself back on Billy’s good side. “Not your week. You and the princess break up for one day, she’s running off with the freak’s brother.”

Steve throws him a scathing glare, but Billy’s scowl is harsher, his mouth turned down and heavy brows drawing shadows in his eyes.

Tommy doesn’t get the hint to stop. He goes on to say, “Oh, shit. You don’t know. Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven't shown. But that must just be a coincidence, right?” He laughs.

Billy snaps, “Get lost, Hill. Before I beat your face in.”

Tommy looks over at him, startled. He finally seems to get that he lost his chance with Billy, won’t be gaining friendship with the new king. He shuts off the shower with a roll of his eyes and exits the stall, leaving Billy and Steve alone.

Most of the class has cleared out, a few lingering by the lockers, but out of ear shot. They wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the sound of the running water anyway.

“Don’t take it too hard, man,” Billy says, playing it cool in case anyone can actually hear them. “A pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about.” Maybe not playing it as cool as he could be, with a line like that. Steve snorts. Billy continues, “Plenty of bitches in the sea.” He reaches across Steve to slowly turn the handle of the shower, the spray trickling down until it stops. Billy leans in closer, too close. “Am I right?”

Steve watches as Billy walks around the shower head, away from him. He huffs out a sigh. “What’s your deal, Hargrove?”

Billy turns around, but doesn’t stop walking away. Smirks a bit, a tease of tongue pressed to his teeth. Flirty. “Oh you know me, pretty boy. I’m a bit of a bitch myself.”

Steve turns on his shower head, blush growing. He quickly finishes rinsing out the suds from his hair, then runs conditioner through the strands. When he finishes, he walks over with a towel wrapped around his waist to where Billy’s still getting dressed, jumping himself into a pair of jeans. He doesn’t have any underwear on underneath, and the fact makes Steve heat up.

Steve tugs on one of Billy’s belt loops. “What’re you doing today?”

Billy shrugs on his white button up, turning to Steve with the shirt loose and open. “Gotta drive Max home right after school. Her mom wants to do something with her, I don’t know. After that, I’m free. You have anything in mind?” Billy’s lips turn up at the corners.

Steve hums, taking in the picture Billy makes; jeans low on his hips, shirt undone framing his glistening chest, water trailing between his pecs. Steve presses two fingers above Billy’s pendent, keeps them there a moment then flattens his hand.

“You should come over tonight. My parents aren’t home. Unless you have some big party you have to feed your ego at, it being a Friday and all.”

Billy laughs at Steve’s audacity. “You’re such a fucking _bitch_ , man, I love it.” He places a hand on Steve’s hip, fingers dipping underneath the towel. “For your information, there’s no place I’d rather be than at your house on a Friday night. No one here knows how to throw a proper party, anyway.”

“Oh, and California does?” Steve indulges him.

“In Cali, I’d be able to dance with you at a house party without anyone batting an eye. We’d also be able to sneak into gay bars, since I knew people who would let me in.”

Steve’s gotta give him that. “Yeah, I guess that is better. But,” he starts, dragging Billy in closer by his necklace; Billy looks delighted at the action. “If you come over my house, you can dance with me _and_ maybe jump into my heated pool if you feel so inclined.”

“You have a _heated pool_ and this is the first time I’m hearing about it?” Billy genuinely sounds upset, and Steve has to laugh at the outraged look on his face.

“Sorry that it hasn’t come up before. But, yeah. If you wanna come over tonight, we can go for a swim, drink a few beers. You can stay over if you’re able to.” Steve shrugs, tries to appear nonchalant.

“Hmm…” Billy acts like he’s thinking about it, but they both know he’s going to agree; he looks pleased by Steve’s invitation, the apples of his cheeks a bit pink, his eyes lit up in genuine satisfaction. “I guess it wouldn’t be such a bad things for me to come over. Just to test out this heated pool of yours. You know I was a lifeguard back home, pretty boy? Gotta make sure you don’t drown.” He’s biting his lip to hide his smile.

Billy’s going to kill him.

Steve stares at Billy’s mouth as the picture of the other boy in tiny, red trunks that emphasize his thighs, sun kissed and skin warm from hours lounging. “I did _not_ know that. You still, uh, have the uniform?”

Billy’s got his number. “‘Course I do, baby. I’ll wear them for you tonight, put on a little show.”

Billy’s officially killed him.

Steve’s chest is steadily growing redder with how fast his blush is growing, towel hardly hiding the chub he’s beginning to sport. Billy’s staring down, lip still caught between his teeth.

Steve decides to embrace the moment, releases the towel from its hold around his waist, turns back to walk toward his locker. He hears Billy’s small intake of breath, and glances over his shoulder to see Billy brazenly staring at his ass, face hungry.

Tugging on his boxers, Steve says, “I’m looking forward to it.” He grins as he pulls on his jeans, Billy’s footfalls growing louder the closer he gets.

Billy turns Steve around, backs him up. Billy brackets Steve with his elbows pressed into the lockers behind him, hands meeting to play with Steve’s hair. He leans closer until his breath touches Steve’s lips and he looks at Steve through his eyelashes. His pupils are dilated a bit, the blue of his eyes dark.

“Now, baby, you’re not playing fair,” Billy breathes out, the words warming Steve’s lips.

“Oh, _honey,_ ” Steve whispers, “just evening the playing field.” With that, he smacks a sharp kiss to Billy’s lips and pushes him away, pulling his polo over his head.

Steve hears Billy laugh with the shirt still over his head, and when he finally looks Billy looks tickled, eyes crinkled in the corners in laughter and happiness.

Billy steps into Steve’s space again and kisses him softly, smiling into it, savoring it. The bell rings loudly, warning them that time is running out before they have to leave for their next class. Neither of them pay it any mind, lingering to press slow kisses to each other’s lips.

When the shrill ring of the bell sounds, signaling the start of third period, Steve and Billy finally break apart, smiling at each other.

No one else has come into the locker room, lucky for them; though, Steve knows that there’s no PE class third period on Fridays for whatever reason. Steve didn’t care enough to know, but he’s grateful for the lack of interruption.

Steve pecks Billy on the lips one last time before he slams his locker shut and grabs his stuff.

“I’ll see you later?” Steve confirms, walking backwards toward the exit, not wanting to take his eyes off Billy. He won’t see him until the final bell rings at 3:15; he’s gonna take his fill.

“Seven, o’clock, bambi.” Billy nods his head. He’s watching Steve right back, eyes roving over Steve’s face, not wanting Steve out of his sight.

Steve grins, dopey and big. “Bye, Billy,” he says, turning out of the door to head to history.

He hears Billy call out, “See ya, pretty boy!” and Steve’s face keeps a smile for the rest of the day.

*

When the school day finally ends, Steve’s waiting for Billy by the Camaro. All seniors get out a period early on Fridays, so Steve could have easily just gone home once sixth period was over, but he wanted to see the bother boy before their plans later.

Steve’s watching the entrance so he sees when Billy comes out of the building. He’s with Drew, the two talking and joking around. Billy catches sight of Steve quickly after exiting the building, though, so he says his goodbye to Drew, the two clasping hands in farewell.

Billy makes his way over, Max reaching him halfway through his trek. He throws an arm over her shoulders and drags her into his side, giving her a noogie. Max yells in protests, beating her fists into his stomach, but she’s laughing all the while. Billy smiles down at her and lets her go.

Steve watches as Max looks back over to the middle school where Lucas Sinclair is looking at her, Billy following her gaze. He nudges her and she looks up at him, the two having a silent conversation with some expressive looks, mostly Max pleading with her eyes and then fiercely glaring when Billy gives her nothing in return. Billy finally rolls his eyes and huffs, looking over at Sinclair where he’s failing at pretending he’s not staring. 

Max beams and pinches Billy’s side, Billy flicking her ear in retaliation. Max yells across the parking lot to Lucas from where she and Billy have finally reached the Camaro.

“Hey, stalker! Get over here!” she shouts, hands cupping her mouth. Steve and Billy both snort at her moniker for Lucas, the boy in question looking around in alarm when people turn to stare at him. He runs over after awkwardly smiling at a mother and son duo.

“I’m _not_ stalking you,” Lucas huffs out, irritation in his voice but puppy love on his face.

Max fondly rolls her eyes at him, says, “ _Sure_ you’re not.” Billy fake gags, but Steve watches the pair, remembering when he was their age and had crushes. He thinks they’re cute in their teasing.

Max slaps Billy’s stomach with the back of her hand in annoyance, Billy grunting at the impact and shoving her hand away. The two glare at each other before Max blows out a breath and tells him, “We’ll be in the car.” She grabs Lucas’s hand as he stares back and forth between the siblings with wide eyes, before they climb behind the driver’s seat into the back of the car. Steve’s hears them whispering about some lizard that Dustin apparently lost.

Turning the Billy, small quizzical smile on his face, he asks, “What was that about?”

Billy groans. “Ugh. I have to drop off her wannabe boyfriend before I bring her home.”

Steve’s smile grows and he steps a little closer into Billy’s space. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not gonna be in the car with the two lovebirds so zip it,” he says, exasperated.

Steve giggles at Billy’s ‘unfortunate’ circumstances. “Babe,” he chides.

Billy sulks. “Shut up.” He sighs out the tension from his shoulders, visibly relaxes as he says to Steve, a tiny and sly grin in place, “At least I get to see you in a tiny swim suit later.”

“As long as I get to see you in yours.”

“ _King Steve_ ,” Billy crows, mood turning a 180, now excited at Steve playing along.

They’re both leaning closer to each other, shoulders touching where they’re leant against the Camaro, but they both jump when the car honks. They startle apart and peer into the car to see Max pressing on the horn. She taps her empty wrist when she notices she has Billy’s attention.

Billy blows out a breath. “Gotta go play chauffeur. I’ll catch you later, Stevie.” He climbs into the car and turns the ignition, The Scorpions blasting out of the speakers.

Steve backs away. “Seven, right?”

“On the dot,” Billy says out the window. He waves as he drives off, out of the parking lot.

Seven o’clock. Looks like Steve’s got four hours to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spanish translation:
> 
> "I hope you’re not lactose intolerant, honey." Thank you TheSickle for the translation!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought the guilt of posting an incomplete fic would have motivated me to post faster.... that was not the case... but to defend myself life do be getting in the way
> 
> i hope this short chapter of fluff and smut tides you over... sorry for the wait again :0
> 
> all mistakes are mine

Steve finds himself going crazy after waiting around his empty house for an hour, so he sets an alarm for a quarter after six and naps. When he wakes up he orders one pizza pie and then jumps into the shower, rubbing himself down and trying to get rid of that weird fuzziness that naps always leave him with.

He throws on a white t-shirt and sweatpants, the fuzziest socks he owns, and is on his way down the stairs when the doorbell rings. He opens the door to find the pizza delivery kid, some band geek a year behind Steve. He’s a little disappointed that it’s not Billy showing up early, but at least he’s not late, Steve rationalizes. He pays for the food, gives a hefty tip because it’s not his money anyway, and shuts the door behind him.

Setting the pizza in the oven to keep warm, Steve grabs a beer from the fridge, something to settle the nerves that are starting to wake up in his body.

He’s halfway through the bottle, taking small sips, when knocks come from the front door. Steve startles, lost in his head, and he glances at the clock mounted above the sink to see that it’s exactly seven o’clock, punctual.

Steve swings the door open to reveal Billy leaning against the door jam, cigarette tucked into his mouth and bag thrown over his shoulder.

Billy grins, “Hi there.”

“Hey yourself.” Steve takes Billy in, finds him wearing the same clothes as earlier in school.

Billy steps inside and into Steve’s space as he shuts the door behind him. “You look good, baby.” He presses his lips to Steve’s.

Steve hums into the kiss, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through Billy’s curls. “So do you,” he mumbles between them. He reluctantly pulls back to pluck at Billy’s button-up. “A little overdressed, but I’m sure there’s something we can do to fix that.”

Billy chuckles, tucks his fingers under the waistband of Steve’s sweats. “I’m sure you can.”

“Come on,” Steve says, grabs behind himself for one of Billy’s hands to drag them both into the kitchen. “Pizza and beers and then heated pool. How’s that sound?”

Billy lets himself be pulled along, taking in the interior of the house as Steve leads him. “Sounds fine by me. Your house is a fucking castle. Fitting for a king, I guess.” He slaps Steve’s ass, laughing when Steve yelps.

Turning around, Steve lets go of Billy’s hand to place both palms on his chest, pushing him away from him and Steve walks backwards into the kitchen.

“Aww, baby,” Billy coos, eating up the space Steve created between them. He crowds Steve into the counter. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.” His arms go around Steve’s neck, fingers ending up in soft hair. Steve places his hands on Billy’s waist, sliding his shirt up a bit to get at skin.

“You didn't mean to hurt me, but you _were_ mean,” Steve scolds. He nudges Billy’s nose with his own, leaves his lips out of kissing distance even when Billy strains forward.

“And you’re being mean right back,” Billy whispers against his cheek, tugging a bit at Steve’s hair.

Steve grunts, head leaning back into Billy’s grip. He moves his palms to Billy’s ass, squeezing a bit. Billy breathes out a gasp and releases his hold on Steve’s hair.

“Mmm,” Steve hums. “Looks like we were made to be mean to each other.” He licks at Billy’s lips and dips his tongue inside when Billy drops his mouth open.

Billy shoves himself impossibly closer, taking up the space Steve didn’t know they still had between them. With his renewed hold on Steve’s hair, Billy angles Steve’s head until he can lick in deeper, stroke his tongue against Steve’s.

Billy kisses like he wants to consume Steve, like he wants to have Steve inside him, and be inside Steve at the same time. Steve lets Billy lead, grasping at Billy’s ass to drag him closer. He shoves a leg between Billy’s, gives Billy something to grind down on as Steve ruts his hips to meet Billy’s pace.

Steve slowly drags his mouth off, heaving in air as Billy draws his swollen lips down to Steve’s neck, sucking and licking. He finds a spot he must like, right where two of Steve’s moles paint his skin underneath his jaw. He presses his teeth to the dots, kitten licks and sucks until he leaves a mark. Steve moans, dragging his filled-out length against Billy’s.

“Bill - _ah -_ Billy,” Steve huffs out, hands moving up Billy’s back and returning down to his ass, not knowing where to rest. “T-the food and the pool.” He groans when Billy nips at his throat.

Billy shoves one of his hands between them, rubbing at Steve through his sweats. Steve is helpless to the sound that comes out of his mouth, to how he presses forward to keep the pressure Billy is giving him.

“Later,” Billy pants out, shoving his ass back into Steve’s hands. “Food and pool later. Just,” he groans when Steve squeezes again, “just this for now. Steve, _baby_.”

Billy keeps his hand over Steve’s sweatpants, jerking him through the fabric. Steve feels how the heat in his gut spreads, how he rocks up to the tips of his toes. He’s close, embarrassingly so, but he can’t stop himself from chasing the pleasure.

Steve feels Billy rocking himself onto Steve’s thigh, how he drags his cock trapped in his jeans against the muscles. With the way Billy keeps gasping, letting out little whines caught in his throat, he has to hope that Billy is close, too.

Bill rubs his thumb cover the head of Steve’s dick, and that’s it, Steve’s done. He moans long and drawn out as he comes into his sweats, the dark stain from his precum spreading. Billy jacks him through it, still grinding himself into Steve.

Steve twitches with aftershocks. Billy’s hand has stopped moving but he’s still cupping Steve’s cock, just holding him.

Still panting, Steve lets go of Billy’s ass, earning him a whine. He moves to unbuckle Billy’s belt, unbuttons and unzips his jeans. He shoves his hand inside, absentmindedly noticing the lack of underwear.

He circles the base of Billy’s cock, grip not too tight but not too loose. He figures Billy’s too close to care if Steve is actually good at this, so he drags his hand up the length and thumbs at the head, pressing at the slit where precum is steadily leaking out.

Billy gasps out and grips Steve’s hair again, drags Steve’s mouth to his own. Their kisses are open mouthed as Steve jacks Billy off, Billy moreso pantinginto Steve’s mouth than kissing Steve back.

With three more pulls from length to tip, Billy shudders and comes, coating Steve’s hand in stickiness. Steve jerks him through it, Billy groaning out his name when it becomes too much.  Steve takes his hand out of Billy’s pants, wipes it off on his sweats.

They're breathing into each other, foreheads resting together. Billy’s eyes are closed, and Steve takes him in from under his own drooping lashes, takes in the flush on Billy’s cheeks that bring out his freckles, the sweat collecting at his hairline.

Steve presses forward and kisses Billy, slow and lazy, basking in the afterglow. Billy hums into it, raking his hand through Steve’s hair, other arm going around his waist.

“So,” Billy mumbles against Steve’s lips, hand still petting through his hair. “Pool time?”

Steve laughs and pushes Billy away, walking around him. “You’re unbelievable.” He moves toward the stairs so he can go to his room and grab his swim trunks. He turns when he hears a whine, finds Billy leaning against the doorjamb making pathetic grabby hands at him.

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters under his breath. _He’s so cute_. “Come up, you big baby. Change with me.”

Billy stops his display and snaps a sloppy salute, cheeky grin on his face. “Sir, yes, sir.” He grabs is bag off the floor and climbs the stairs after Steve. 

They get changed with minimum groping on Billy’s part, though Steve can’t stop his eyes from dragging down Billy’s frame, admiring how the red of the shorts go with the tan of Billy’s skin.

Billy’s not hiding his stare either, drinking in the picture of Steve in his tiny yellow trunks. He wolf whistles and Steve blushes and throws his balled up shirt at Billy's face. Billy lets out an affronted sound when it makes impact, and while Steve is distracted by laughing, Billy tackles him onto the bed.

“Billy!” Steve shouts, letting out an _oof_ when their limbs knock into each other.

The air is filled with grunts until Billy reigns triumphant and wrestles Steve under him. Billy straddles him, holding Steve’s arms above his head with one hand, the other resting on Steve’s chest.

“Stevie,” Billy _tsk_ s, hand skirting over Steve’s ribs, down his sides. Steve flinches away, and soon realizes his mistake when Billy’s eyes light up. “Don’t damage the goods.”

Steve knows it’s coming, but he still shrieks when Billy starts to tickle him. He gasps out giggles, held in place by Billy’s weight on top of him.

Billy stops after two minutes of relentless torture. When Steve’s laughter dies out, he finds Billy still on top of him, staring down with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“What?” Steve questions, confused furrow between his brows.

“Nothing,” Billy starts. He brings his hand up and brushes some hair off of Steve’s forehead. “I just like you a lot.”

Steve’s heart lurches in his chest. He grabs Billy’s hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“I like you a lot, too.”

Smiling growing, Billy leans down and kisses Steve sweetly. Their lips move languidly for a few moments, before Billy moves to Steve’s cheek. He presses his lips there chastely, and when Steve is caught up in the sweetness of the gesture, Billy blows a raspberry.

Squawking, Steve pushes Billy away with a hand to his face. Billy laughs into Steve’s palm and rolls onto his back, his shoulders shaking and eyes glinting with mirth. Steve laughs too, muttering an _asshole_ under his breath.

Getting up, Steve towers over Billy’s reclining form. Right hand planted on his hip, he reaches out his other for Billy to grab. “Come on. Let’s go in the pool.”

Billy lets Steve haul him up, allows himself to be pulled into Steve’s space just to press their mouths back together. When Billy nips smartly at Steve’s bottom lip, Steve pulls back a little to murmur into the air between them, “Behave yourself.”

“I’ll try,” Billy says back, gaze caught on the shine on Steve’s lips. “But no promises.”

Steve rolls his eyes and smiles, guides Billy down the stairs to the laundry room to grab a couple of towels. When he slides open the glass door leading to the patio, a blast of cold air hits them; Steve shivers from the chill and Billy curses under his breath.

Steve places their towels on one of the lounge chairs and walks them over to the pool. Steam rises above the surface, but Billy still looks at the water apprehensibly. Their hands are still clasped between them, and Steve awkwardly nudges Billy to get his attention.

“On three, we jump?”

Blowing out a breath, Billy agrees. “On three.”

They count together, but on two Steve throws Billy into the pool.

Unfortunately for him, Steve forgot to let go of Billy’s hand in time. Billy yelled “ _Motherfucker!_ ” and gripped tighter, dragging Steve into the pool with him.

Steve bursts out of the water and laughs. He takes in Billy getting his bearings by the edge of the pool, hair hanging in loose ringlets. Billy glares when he hears Steve’s sniggering, and he sends a splash of water that ends up in Steve’s mouth. Steve just spits it out and grins. Billy lets out an exasperated breath, but smiles back.

“Dumbass,” he says fondly, moving closer to the middle of the pool to get to Steve, arms ending up over Steve’s shoulders.

“Dick.” Steve places his hands on Billy’s hips; Steve’s grown familiar with the shape of them, the curve of his waist, the softness of his flank. Steve squeezes and lifts Billy a bit, and the other boy gets the hint, jumps with the motion and wraps his legs around Steve. Billy’s knees press tight, ankles crossing under Steve’s ass. Steve’s hands roam down to under Billy’s thighs to hold him up, though the water does most of the work to keep him afloat.

“Stop trying to drown me,” Billy scolds, mock glare losing its fire due to the pout Billy’s gracing.

Steve smirks. “Or what? You’ll blow your whistle at me?”

“I’ll blow something,” Billy mutters, and as Steve chokes on his spit Billy cackles.

Steve laughs mockingly back at him. He has a split second to look scared at the glint in Steve’s eye before Steve dumps them both back under water.

Steve rises first and is already laughing when Billy sputters up next to him. He barely flinches when Billy dunks him, hearing a distorted but heartfelt “ _asshole_ ” while he’s underwater.

They goof around for the next hour, jumping in from the diving board and splashing each other, before Billy decides he’s hungry and climbs up the ladder.

Steve whistles when he sees the red, wet material clinging to Billy’s ass, head resting on his folded arms at the lip of the pool. Rolling his eyes, Billy grabs a towel and wraps himself up, shaking a bit at the cold weather.

“Get out, princess. I need to be fed.”

Instead of using the ladder, Steve pulls himself out. “You sure I’m the princess here?” he asks as he makes his way over to where Billy’s standing, picking up the other towel.

Billy doesn't answer, instead marches over to the sliding glass doors and opens them, entering the warmth promised in the house without waiting for Steve. Steve rolls his eyes and follows, shutting out the cold behind him.

Walking into the kitchen, Steve finds Billy has made himself at home atop of the counter, opening a beer bottle with one of his rings. Steve won’t even think about how hot he finds that; instead, he goes to the oven to take out the box of pizza. He places it down next to Billy and then hops up on the counter himself, the food between them.

They don’t talk about anything in particular while they eat, just high school gossip. Carol’s eyes keep wandering toward Billy, and Steve’s overheard Tommy complain, even though his eyes stray as well, alway looking for the new kid as well. Billy tells Steve how Tina asked for a ride home the other day and wouldn’t take a hint, and Billy only shook her off when he sneezed in her face, claiming he was getting sick.

Once finished, Steve flops back on the counter, back flat and head hanging upside down over the edge. He groans and places a hand on his stomach. “Ugh, I feel so bloated.”

Billy chuckles. “Keep talking dirty, baby, it’s doing things to me.” Steve reaches across and smacks Billy thigh, but Billy only laughs harder in response.

Heaving himself up and off his perch with a grunt, Steve grabs Billy’s hand and drags him down as well. “Come on,” he says as he leads the two of them to the foyer, “let’s go to bed.”

Billy doesn’t fight being pulled along, but he’s quiet when they reach Steve’s room. The silence remains even while they change, until Steve is pulling a shirt over his head and hears, “You know I can’t stay, right?”

Popping his head out, hair messy, Steve tilts his head and asks, “What do you mean ‘can’t stay’?”

Billy roughly drags a hand over his forehead, pushing his curls out of his face. “I can’t stay the night. My dad - uh. I have chores to do tomorrow morning.”

“Ah,” Steve acknowledges, disappointed as he steps into a pair of boxers. “What time do you have to be home by?”

Moving closer to Steve after shrugging on a pair of basketball shorts and a muscle tee, Billy places a soothing hand on Steve’s shoulder, lets it drag down until he can tangle their fingers together. “Since it’s Friday, my old man won’t expect me back ’til around one. I can push it to two, but if he finds out I came back any later, it won’t, uh, be good.”

Steve’s fingers flex, tightening their hold around Billy’s. He doesn’t like it, that Billy has to go back to a father who doesn’t treat him right, how Billy expects bad repercussions for anything that he does that steps out of line. He knows, though, that asking Billy to stay and not go back would make the situation worse.

“Okay,” Steve accepts, brushing a hand over Billy’s hair. “That’s fine. We’ll just hang out some more, relax, whatever, until you have to go. No big deal.”

Billy’s eyes search Steve’s, and whatever he must find makes him nod. He grabs Steve’s face and drags him into a kiss, just a strong press of lips. He exaggerates, pulling back with a “ _muah_!” that makes Steve giggle like a lovesick school girl, and the once tense atmosphere is gone as quickly as it came.

They lay down in Steve’s bed and get comfortable, tangling their limbs together. They talk about their plans for the weekend, Billy complaining about the chores he has to do on a Saturday morning of all days, and Steve talks it through and decides tomorrow might be the best time to drop off the stuff Nancy has left at his place. Billy’s grip on Steve’s waist tightens at the mention of her, but when Steve runs a soothing hand down his back he settles into the crook of Steve’s neck again.

The conversation dulls, Billy growing heavy and only answering in grunts after awhile. Steve breaks the quiet, wanting to spend as much as this Friday awake with Billy as he can.

“So,” Steve says, “I’ve got a question.”

Billy hums in response, eyes closed.

“Did you even wear a costume for Halloween? Or is shirtless just normal party attire for you?”

Billy’s eyes snap open, immediately awake. He props himself up on an elbow and looks down at Steve with offense. “Dude, are you serious? I was the Terminator! Are you forreal?”

Steve laughs at Billy’s outrage. “How was I supposed to know that? I didn’t get a chance to watch that movie!”

If anything, that just makes Billy look more appalled. Steve laughs harder. “Oh, Stevie, _no_. We have to plan a movie night. I can’t date someone who doesn’t know who the Terminator is. It’s unthinkable.”

“Oh, unthinkable, huh?” Steve teases.

Billy nods sagely, playing along. “Yes. Can’t even fathom it.” 

Steve sighs dramatically. “Guess we just aren’t meant to be.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Billy muses. “What’s a little temptation of fate, huh?”

“And what temptation is that?”

Billy smirks. “The Terminator getting with - what were you? A cool business guy?”

“ _What_?” Steve sits up, eyes wide. “You mean to tell me that you got mad that I don’t know who the Terminator is when you haven’t seen _Risky Business_? With Tom Cruise? _Seriously_?”

“I literally have no idea what that is,” Billy states, watching Steve work himself up with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“I don’t believe it,” Steve cries. “You have to at least have _heard_ about it. The dance scene to ‘Old Time Rock and Roll’? Billy, come on!” Steve falls back onto the bed, hands covering his face as he bemoans his misfortune.

Laughing, Billy lays back down next to Steve, turning his head to smile at him. “Oh, babe, come on. It’s fine. We’ll just add it to our movie night.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiine, ugh,” Steve whines. “Can’t believe you thought I was a business man, what the fuck? What kind of costume would that be?”

“A lame one,” Billy laughs, dragging his fingers gently down Steve’s cheek. “Which is why I’m glad you’re not.”

Steve scoffs. “Oh, wow. Thanks. That boost of confidence, whew, my ego’s through the roof.”

“Aww, baby,” Billy coos. “Can’t let you going around with a big head.”

Putting a hand in Billy’s hair, Steve tugs a little, getting a gasp out of the other boy. “But then who will match yours?”

Billy snaps his teeth in Steve’s face, who flinches slightly back and laughs. Steve pecks him on the lips before he can go back to laying down on Steve’s chest, and Billy hums where their mouths are repeatedly being pressed together.

Their lips start lazily dragging, becoming opened mouth with quick flicks of tongue. Billy settles himself more fully on top of Steve, muscling his way in between Steve’s parted thighs.

Steve gasps when Billy grinds down, manages to get out, “Don’t start something you don’t plan on finishing, big guy.”

Billy rocks again in response, says, “I always finish what I start, princess.”

Knees drawing up on either side of Billy’s waist, Steve thrusts up to meet Billy when he comes down. The move drags groans out of both of them, and Steve tosses his head back onto the pillow behind him. His eyes shut while he and Billy rut together, the air in the room growing muggy and humid.

They stay pressing and shifting together, Billy’s face tucked in Steve’s neck as he leaves kisses there, all on a path to Steve’s mouth. He dips his tongue between Steve’s parted lips, muffling the answering moan that Steve lets out. 

Steve grows frustrated, their grinding good but not enough to bring him to the edge, not after already getting off once together tonight already. He untangles one hand from Billy’s hair and shoves in between their bodies, rubbing himself off over his shorts and giving something for Billy to move against.

Billy’s hips stutter at the new pressure, but quickly recover at a quicker pace. Steve’s mumbles of, “Come on, baby, come for me,” seem to motivate Billy. Steve's lost the concept of time, isn't sure when Billy gets closer to the edge, but soon Billy presses down hard and stills for only a moment, then continues to rock as his orgasm courses through him.

Steve’s still rutting up into his own hand, Billy’s languid grind jarring the rhythm Steve has built up. When Billy catches his breath, he opens his eyes from his perch above Steve, eyes glazed over and flush high on his cheeks. He takes in Steve’s disheveled and desperate look, coming to a decision once his sex-numb brain processes what he’s seeing.

The loss of Billy’s weight hovering over him causes Steve to cry out in frustration, only to choke on a curse when Billy shoves his way down so his mouth is above where Steve is jacking himself off.

Steve’s hand falters when he grasps what position Billy’s put himself in, what it could mean. Billy takes this moment to grab Steve’s hand and tangle their fingers together, moving it out of the way so that he can drag his mouth up the length of Steve’s cock in the confines of his briefs. Says, "Let me," and Steve feels the vibrations on his dick.

Steve pants as he watches Billy grip the waistband and tug down, moving slightly back as Steve’s cock springs free. Billy takes in the sight of him, runs reverent fingers from base to tip, before thumbing the precum that’s collecting at the head.

Billy looks Steve in the eye when he sucks the tip into his mouth, and Steve’s eyes once again shut in pleasure. Billy bobs up and down slowly, tonguing his slit and swallowing around the girth when it hits the back of his throat.

Steve lasts for who knows how long, seconds, minutes, _eons_ , before he comes into the warm heat of Billy’s mouth. He tugs at the roots of Billy’s hair, then smooths a hand down his crown in apology for both the pain and the lack of warning. Billy only hums, swallowing what's in his mouth and licking the bit that trickled out.

Breathing harshly, Steve stares at the ceiling as Billy makes his way back up Steve's body. Still cradled in between Steve’s legs, Billy pillows his head on Steve’s heaving chest, hand playing with the hair there.

Once he catches his breath, Steve brings his hands up. One tangles with the one Billy has on his pec, the other lies on the small of Billy’s back, under his shirt. He stretches his neck to press a kiss to Billy’s forehead, and he feels the smile that Billy presses into his skin.

They lay in bed for the rest of the night, dozing and relaxing. Steve rouses a bit when Billy shifts on top of him, checking the clock on his bedside table. A groan escapes his lips, and he briefly pushes his face back into Steve’s neck before climbing to his knees.

“It’s half past one, baby. I gotta go.”

Steve watches as Billy climbs to his feet, grabbing his few scattered items and shoving them into his bag. Billy stands up straight and shoulders the duffle, eyes finding Steve where he’s still sprawled on the bed.

“Now, as much as I want to crawl back into bed with you, I really gotta go.” He walks over and grabs Steve’s hand, dragging him out of bed. He says, over Steve’s groaning protests, “Walk me to the door, sweetheart.”

Steve lets Billy tug him out of his room and down the stairs. His back is pressed to the wall as he watches Billy shove on his boots and jacket. Tugging his hair out from under the collar, Billy looks at Steve and smiles, and Steve is helpless to do anything but grin hopelessly back. He grabs Billy at the hips and pulls him close, meets him for a kiss with Billy’s palms cupping his cheeks.

“Thanks for tonight,” Billy says when he breaks away. “I had a really good time with a really pretty boy like you.”

Pecking him on the lips once more, Steve replies, “I did, too.” Pauses. “If you’re not too busy tomorrow, do you want to hang out again? Do our little movie night?”

His thumbs softly brush over Steve’s cheekbones when Billy agrees. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll come over at eight? Should give me enough time to do whatever it is my dad wants.”

“Sounds good. I'll rent the movies.” Steve kisses him again, and then opens the door for him. “See you then.”

Billy grins. “Later, pretty boy. Good luck dropping off your ex’s stuff.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles back. “Get home safe. Do your chores.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Billy throws a lazy wave and climbs into his car, engine revving loud at this too late of an hour for a nice neighborhood.

Steve watches Billy drive away with a warm feeling in his chest. He’s really looking forward to tomorrow.

The next time Steve sees Billy, all hell has broken loose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE'S FUCKING DONEEEEEEE HOLY SHIT. crap. wow.
> 
> i swear i meant to get this out earlier, but life got in the way. some serious shit happened, but in the end writing this helped distract me from thinking about it
> 
> i really hope you guys like this ;A; thank you for all the kind words and kudos. thank u to my boy ben u are amazing i love you so much
> 
> as always, this is unbeta'd

Steve goes to the Wheeler’s house in the morning to return Nancy’s stuff and gets dragged into a nightmare again.

Between hunting down Dustin’s evil pet, giving the kid dating advice, fighting off a pack of demodogs, watching a little girl wearing too much eyeliner kill a ‘dog with her mind, and painstakingly giving Nancy his blessing to move on, Steve feels like the night can’t get any crazier.

He’s arguing with the kids about protecting them, not letting them go out to _set underground tunnels on fire holy shit_ , when an engine revving outside draws their attention.

Well, crap.

Steve would recognize that sound anywhere, and it seems like Max would, too. She jogs over the window to peer outside, anxiety in her movements. Lucas follows her.

“It’s my brother,” she exhales. “H-he can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill _us_.” Steve thinks she’s over-exaggerating a bit, but he recognizes that the moment is tense and stress-inducing.

Making a decision and walking to the door, he orders the kids, “Stay inside.” He ignores their protests and shuts the door behind him as the camaro’s tires screech to a halt.

Steve stands on the porch as Billy shuts off the car and exits. Right away, he can tell something is wrong. Billy’s movements are stiff, and the fingers holding his cigarette are trembling a bit.

Billy’s smile is mean when he says, “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” _Harrington_. Not Steve. Shit. Steve never got the chance to call Billy to tell him he couldn't make it to their date. Shit, shit, _shit_.

Steve tries to be casual, see if he can play along with Billy and somehow manage to get him to calm down. “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He can immediately tell that that’s the wrong move.

Steve watches as Billy shrugs off his leather jacket, cigarette held between his lips. Steve can’t help but take Billy in, how good he looks with his open red shirt, tight jeans, and styled hair. Billy went through all this effort for Steve, only to be blown off with no explanation. Fuck.

He climbs down the steps as Billy questions, “What are you doing here, amigo?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve responds as Billy saunters over. “ _Amigo_.”

Billy rests a hand on his buckle, never taking his eyes off of Steve. Steve can’t get a genuine read on the boy, Billy’s face closed off. But Steve knows this won’t end well, not when he catches sight of the red mark on Billy’s check, slightly swolen.

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

Steve doesn’t want to lie, he really doesn’t, but he knows this isn’t his secret to tell. And he promised to protect those kids from anything. “Huh, that’s weird. I haven’t seen her.”

Billy shows his teeth. “You positive? She's hard to miss. Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch.” _Yikes_.

“She’s not here, Billy. Sorry, buddy.”

Billy nods, chuckles a bit. “‘Buddy,’ huh.” He takes the smoke out of his mouth and sighs. “You know, I don’t know, this…” He gestures to the air, clicks his tongue. “This whole situation, Stevie, I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh, yeah? Why's that?” _Play it cool, play it cool, play it cool_.

Shrugging around another drag, Billy explains, “My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day. My boyfriend wasn’t where he said he would be when I went to his house for help, and then I find her with said boyfriend in a stranger’s house.” His noise scrunches up when he scolds, “And you _lie_ to me about it.”

Steve laughs a bit. He can’t help but feed into the cruel, ruthless energy Billy is emitting. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?” Steve catches the hurt in Billy eyes, how the other boy tries to mask the emotion by obscenely licking his lips. He knows he’s taking it too far, but still goes on to say, “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. Max isn’t here.”

“Oh, baby,” Billy mocks. He points with his cigarette toward the house. “Then who is that?” Steve turns to see all the kids watching. _Those fucking idiots_.

“Oh shit. Billy, listen-”

Steve doesn’t get the chance to explain. Instead, he gets shoved hard, finds himself flat on his back as Billy looms over him. 

“I told you to plant your feet,” Billy hisses. Steve groans as Billy steps over him, stalking menacingly up the porch.

Steve scrambles after Billy as he hears the front door bang open. “Billy, wait!”

Billy turns around from where he’s just beyond the doorway, glaring down at the kids. “What, Steve? What could you possibly say to me?”

“Just let me explain! You don’t know what’s going on.”

Billy gestures for Steve to come in, mockingly presents the entrance to him. “Well, come in and explain, _your highness_. Between you and the freaks, I’m sure you’ll feed me a good story.”

Steve enters nervously, skirting around Billy as to not touch him; Steve isn’t sure any contact between them right now would be a good idea.

Billy slams the door once Steve is inside, making everyone jump. Billy rests his back against it and motions for Steve to go on, crosses his arms.

“Uh... first off, I’m sorry for not telling you that I had to cancel tonight. There was an emergency and it was last minute-”

“Okay, whatever,” Billy brushes him off. “Why is Maxine here?”

Max moves closer, standing just behind Steve. “One of our friends is sick. Like, _really_ sick. He was in the hospital a bit. He got released but got bad again and we were all just here to be with him. Steve drove us over.”

Billy takes in her explanation. His face is closed off; Steve can’t tell whether he’s buying it or not. It’s not like Max is lying entirely— Will _is_ really sick and they are all there for him. Aren’t lies sprinkled with a little bit of truth more believable?

After a moment of silence, Dustin can’t seem to take the tension any longer. “Well?” he asks.

Billy lulls his head to the side, moving his eyes to look at the kid. “Well what?”

Dustin looks at him like he’s stupid. “Do you believe us?”

“Oh,” Billy says, pushing himself off the door. “No.”

The kids start yelling at him, telling him that it’s the truth. Steve doesn’t say anything, even as Billy gets into his space.

“You gonna tell me the truth, Stevie?”

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat. “Billy...” He steps closer. “Honey, it’s not my secret to tell.”

Billy snaps.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He pushes Steve, who stumbles back into the kids clustered behind him. “This is _bullshit_! First I find out Max is missing and of course my dad has a goddamn problem with that. Tells me it’s _my_ responsibility to look after her even though the bitch is the one who snuck out on her own.” He hisses every word, moving toward Steve again until he fists a hand in Steve’s jacket to drag him closer. The kids scramble back.

“Then, when I go to your house for help, what do I find? Fucking _nothing_. Because my boyfriend wasn’t there, even though we had fucking plans tonight. So what did I have to do? Go to your damn ex’s house and act like I wasn’t grossed out about some wannabe MILF hitting on a guy her daughter’s age.” Mike squawks in the background. “Fucking _Karen Wheeler_ is the only goddamn person on my side in this fucking town at the moment.”

Billy pulls Steve even closer, until their noses are practically touching. Steve remembers a time when this position would have made arousal build in his gut; instead, he’s fucking terrified and feels guilty.

“Now, _Stevie_ ,” Bully seethes. “Do you wanna try telling me again why my sister is in the middle of the goddamn woods with a bunch of boys?”

The silence after Billy’s demand rings in Steve’s ears. He knows Billy has a temper, is quick to anger. Has seen it first hand in school, with Tommy. He knows Billy would never take it out on him, wouldn’t take it out on Max anymore, either. Whatever happened before, with his dad, must’ve really pushed him over the edge. The people Billy cares about lying to him definitely isn’t helping.

Slowly, as to not spook him, Steve brings a hand up and curls it around the wrist of the hand gripping his jacket. Feeling Billy flinch, Steve soothingly brushes a thumb over Billy’s pulse point. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he addresses the party.

“Guys. We gotta tell him.”

Mike shouts, “Absolutely not!”

Dustin backs him up, “Uh, yeah, no. Steve, the dude is literally seconds away from killing you.”

“Exactly!” Mike yells. “He has no business in this!”

Max scoffs and jumps in. “Uh, _yeah_ he does. He’s my brother. And I don’t know if your pea-sized brains missed it, but he’s dating Steve. I would say he definitely has business in this.”

The three go back in forth, trying to get a word in over each others’ exclamations. Steve pays them no mind, instead attempting to calm Billy down.Steve breathes in and out slowly, getting Billy to do the same with him. Billy’s forehead comes to gradually rest on Steve’s, his eyes closed as he cools off.

The two finally tune back in when Lucas yells, “Alright, _enough_!” With everyone looking at him, he rationalizes, “Billy’s here and he can help. He has a car and he can drive us to the field. Besides, he deserves to know if Max and Steve are involved anyway. He’d find out eventually.”

Pulling away from Steve, Billy asks gruffly, “Find out what?”

Mike rolls his eyes so hard it must hurt and stomps toward the kitchen. Steve leads Billy after, the rest of the kids trailing behind them.

With a flourish, Mike opens the fridge door and the dead ‘dog tumbles to the floor. Gesturing toward the creature, Mike asks, “Do you believe us now?”

Steve and the kids watch nervously as Billy stares down at the demodog, his grip loose in Steve’s hand. After what feels like eons, but is only tension-filled seconds, Billy looks at Steve and deadpans, “Far out.”

The kids gape at his reaction, Dustin exclaiming, “‘ _Far out_ ’?! Dude, what the hell kind of attitude is _that_?!”

Billy shrugs. “It’s like something out of _Lord of the Rings_ , right? Pretty cool.” He gives Steve a small smile, making something settle in Steve’s chest.

“You know _Lord of the Rings_?” Lucas questions, shock on his face.

“You know how to _read_?” Mike chimes in.

Max elbows both boys hard from where she’s standing between them, earning _oof_!s from them.

Billy rolls his eyes and sneers. “Yeah, I can read, dipshit. Tolkien is cool.”

Dustin stares at him and asks, “ _Who_ are you?”

Steve sighs. “Alright, enough,” he demands, scuffing Dustin on the back of his head; the kid lets out an indigent squawk. “Now Billy knows. Doesn’t mean I’m letting you brats go out and light underground tunnels on fire.”

The kids start immediately protesting, Dustin’s cry of “It’s for the good of the world, Steve!” the loudest of the complaints, before Billy cuts in and says, “Well, I think it’s a good idea.”

That kills the ensuing argument. Lucas mumbles, “I knew it was a good idea to tell him” and Dustin rebukes with “Shut up, no you didn’t”. Steve ignores their little back-and-forth to turn incredulous eyes to his boyfriend.

“Are you kidding? It’s a terrible idea! Not only can we possibly _die_ , but I’m definitely not making it out of there alive after Hopper and Joyce find out! No way, no how.”

“Stevie, relax.” Billy places a hand on the nape of Steve’s neck, thumb brushing behind Steve’s ear. Steve would be lying if he said that the action didn’t lower his hackles. “We’ll both be with them and we won’t let anything happen to ‘em.”

Steve knows this to be true. He wouldn’t let anything happen to the kids if he could help it, and Billy always watches out for Max, even if it isn’t always in the most… benevolent way. Steve still has other concerns, though.

Stepping closer, Steve tilts his head down; Billy mimics him, creating a small space just for them. “What if you get hurt? You don’t know how vicious these things are. I do.”

“I won’t get hurt. You know why?” Steve shakes his head, and Billy squeezes the back of his neck in reassurance. “Because you got my back. I know you won’t let anything get to me. Same way I won’t let anything get to you.”

The words have relief flowing through him. Steve draws in a deep breath, and slowly let’s it out. Billy’s thumb is still brushing back and forth along Steve’s skin.

Taking one last look into Billy’s eyes, Steve moves away from him and shifts toward the kids. The boys are still bickering back and forth, but Max is watching the two teens with rapt attention. Steve feels a blush begin to glow on his cheeks, but Max only smiles at him before smacking Dustin and Mike to get the three of them to see what Steve has to say.

With all their attention on him, Steve starts, “Okay, here’s the plan. We’re gonna collect as much stuff here as we can. Gasoline, weapons, whatever. We need stuff to cover our mouths, eyes, and hands from whatever’s floating around in those tunnels. You guys,” he points at the kids, “go find face masks, gloves, and goggles, anything you can get your hands on. Billy and I will go out back to look for everything else. When we’re done, we’ll pack everything into Billy’s car and then drive over to the field. Got it?”

At everyone’s nods, the group splits off into two. The kids go rummaging around in the bedrooms and closets, and Steve and Billy go outback through the door in the kitchen. They comb through the pile of junk that Steve and Nancy were going through earlier. It’s crazy to Steve, thinking about how that was only a few hours ago, about how much has happened in such a small span of time.

Billy draws Steve out of his mind by asking, “So, how did you get involved in all of this?”

Steve looks at Billy, a gallon jug of gasoline held in his hands. “What, today? Or in general?”

“In general,” Billy specifies. “But I’d like to know about today, too. For my peace of mind.”

“Well,” Steve begins, rummaging through the pile all the while, “this actually all started sometime last year, around this time actually. Well, more like December. Anyway, I was just starting to date Nancy. I was a real dick, though, to both her and Jonathan. Went to go apologize to them, but I picked a really bad time.” He chuckles a bit, even though the memory is in no way funny. “They were trying to get the Demogorgon to come to them. Nancy tried to warn me off, held a gun in my face.” He hears Billy choke a bit, and Steve smiles reassuringly at him.

“I got the message loud and clear, but… I went for a reason, you know? To be better. So I stayed and helped fight. Today, I only got dragged back in because I ran into Henderson when I was dropping off Nancy’s stuff this morning.”

Billy takes all this in. “This why you weren’t home?”

“Yeah, yes,” Steve is quick to assure. “I _never_ would have ditched you. I would have called, but uh, I don’t have your number.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, looks up at Billy through his lashes.

“Put those things away,” Billy teases. “Your puppy eyes are a weapon in and of themselves. But, I get it. It’s good you didn’t call. I was basically home by myself all day, but if you had called while my dad was home this morning or afternoon, it… wouldn’t have been pretty.”

Steve’s throat clicks as he swallows, caught in the implications. “The next time something like this happens, I’ll drive by your place. The kids have these walkie talkies? I can get one, radio Max to talk to you.”

“You better let me know,” Billy says, hefting an axe over his shoulder. “Can’t let you have all the fun, fighting monsters.” He smirks. “You know I got a mean swing, baby.”

Steve thinks about the nail studded bat leaning by the door on the front porch and grins slyly back. “So do I.”

*

With the supplies gathered in the trunk, Billy drives the camaro at a speed that has Steve gripping the dashboard and the center console. The kids are bundled into the backseat, all thankfully buckled, except Max who’s sitting on a blushing Lucas’ lap, his arms wrapped around her waist keeping her secure.

“Billy,” Steve forces out between clenched teeth, “don’t you think you should slow down? The kids are in the back.”

“So?” Billy grunts. “They’re wearing seat belts.”

“We’re fine, Steve,” Dustin says from the back. “Besides, we gotta get there quickly so we can help El!”

“Yeah, Steve,” Billy agrees, flicking his eyes off the road to throw Steve a sharp smile. “We gotta get there quickly.”

“Oh, God, we’re gonna die before we get there.”

“Stop your belly-aching, you big baby. We’re fine. I’m a good driver!”

Holding a map, Max instructs, “Make a left on Mount Sinai.”

“You are _so_ not a good driver. You’re going too fast! You’re gonna miss the turn, or - or run us into a ditch!”

“I drive fast because I _am_ a good driver! I’m not gonna miss nothin’ and I won’t run us off the road, Jesus Christ.”

“Next left.”

“Billy, I swear to God, if you don’t slow down, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Work those puppy eyes on me? Go on, King Steve, I wanna hear what you’re gonna do.”

“Make a left!” Max shouts.

Billy looks over his shoulder at her for a moment. “What?”

“Make a left _now!_ ”

Billy turns the wheel sharply, muttering a ‘ _shit_ ’ under his breath. Steve holds onto the headrest behind Billy with a death grip, screaming along with the kids in the back.

The car roars into the dirt field, the brakes screeching as they jolt to the stop beside the hole in the ground.

They sit there panting. Steve grips his shirt over his chest, heart beating staccato under his knuckles. 

“See,” Billy says breathlessly. “Told ya I wouldn’t miss the turn.”

The kids groan in the back. Steve punches Billy in the shoulder and complains, “You’re the worst.”

Billy laughs and rubs at his shoulder. “Thanks for the kind words, pretty boy.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. Addressing everyone, he says, “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”

The group climbs out of the car, going to the trunk and grabbing the makeshift masks and eyewear they’ve gathered. Bandanas go over mouths, and goggles — swimwear and lab protection alike — cover eyes. Gardening and kitchen gloves are passed around, their make-do hazardous suits put in place.

The kids grab the gasoline, and trudge over to the hole, Steve and Billy walking behind them with their respective nail bat and axe resting on their shoulders, own jugs of fuel in their hands. They peer down into the depths, specks of something floating in the around just barely visible.

Sighing, Steve makes sure one last time. “Are you guys sure we need to do this?”

Standing tall, Dustin says, “Yeah, Steve, we’re sure. Bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe.” With conviction, he pushes on, “So, keep us safe.”

Steve takes in the determination in his eyes, the conviction on all the kids’ faces.

He sighs again, resolve breaking. Turning to Billy, he asks, “And you? You’re sure about this, too?”

“‘Course,” Billy agrees. “Can’t let the twerps go down there alone, and their little minds are already set on the plan.” With that, he ties an end of the rope to the camaro’s bumper and drops the other side down the pit.

Billy lets the axe fall down and ignores the rope, jumping into the tunnel. Steve rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, and watches as the kids climb down the rope one at a time.

Steve and Billy fall behind as the kids argue in front, Mike positive they’re going in the right direction. Steve doesn’t know how he can even tell; everything looks the same down here, grey and dull, a film of slim coating the vines on the floor and walls.

Steve breaks the silence between the two of them, saying, “I am sorry, you know. I didn't mean to make you feel the way you did, when I wasn’t home.”

Billy sighs, the bandana blowing outward a bit with the exhalation. “I know,” he assures softly. “Just don’t keep me out of the loop next time. Especially when Maxine is involved. That shit isn’t cool.”

“I won’t,” Steve says quickly. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. That’s why I didn’t get you. But you’re right, I should’ve gone to you the second I found out Max knew, too.” Before Steve can say anything in response, the kids capture his attention.

Dustin and Mike are still arguing over Will’s map, but when Mike goes to further lead the group away from where they came in from, Steve muscles his way over to them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey, hey. I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“Any of you littles shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” He informs the group, “From here on out, I’m leading the way.” He snatches the map from Mike’s grip. “Billy, stay in the back and make sure everyone keeps up.”

Billy throws up a mocking salute, says, “Aye, aye, captain,” earning a snicker from Max. Steve ignores both of them to hustle everyone into moving.

They’ve been walking for good ten minutes, when Dustin screaming from the back stops them, Billy having walked ahead when the kid stopped to look up.

“Help, help, help!”

“Dustin!” Mike cries, the group gathering around Dustin where he’s on his knees.

“What happened?!”

“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin cries. “Some got in my mouth! Shit!” He coughs for a few seconds, spitting onto the ground when he’s calmed down.

Finally, he looks up at the concerned faces of the group.

“I’m okay.”

A collective sigh is heard. Max mutters, “Are you serious?”

“Not funny, man,” Steve scolds. “And _you_ ,” he points at Billy, “where were you when all that happened?”

Billy has the decency to look sheepish. “I thought the kid was stopping to tie his shoe.”

“Nice. Very nice,” Steve mocks, getting up from his crouch. He starts walking, everyone following behind.

Dustin scrambles to his feet, helped by Billy dragging him up by his shirt. “Jesus, I _got_ it, I can get up on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah, get a move on, Chewie,” Billy mutters, shoving Dustin at the shoulder. Dustin rubs it, mutters, “First Tolkien, now _Star Wars_?”

They trudge through the bleak tunnels, no more distractions to stop them. Steve clambers over a mound on the floor and steps into a small clearing.

“Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”

The six of them take in their surroundings, the countless passages that lie before them.

“Let’s drench it.”

They spur into action at Mike’s words, each taking their canister of gasoline and spreading it around, making sure to coat everything they can.

They gather back in the passageway they came from when they’re done.

“Alright, you guys ready?” Steve questions. When everyone confirms, Steve turns to Billy and holds out a hand. “Give me your lighter.”

As Billy hands it over, Dustin commands, “Light her up.”

Flicking the lighter open, Steve voices, “I am in such deep shit.” He throws it.

The second the flame touches the ground, everything goes up in a blaze. The heat is oppressing, causing everyone to flinch back. They watch as the vines arch up and _squeal_ in agony, writhing as they burn.

“Go,” Steve gasps out. Turning, he urges the kids to their feet as he takes one last look at the fire. “Let’s go, go!”

“Steve, come _on_ ,” Billy demands, finally dragging Steve away from his stupor by pulling on his wrist. “We have to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Steve says breathlessly, tripping over his feet until his matches Billy’s fast pace.

They run into a fallen Mike, vine wrapped around his ankle. The kids are attempting to pull him out, but Steve demands, “Everybody back! Back!”

Steve swings down with the bat, striking the vine. When Steve rears back for another hit, Billy brings down the axe, effectively cutting more than halfway through the thick appendage. Steve rips the vine in two with a final whack. The thing dies with a scream; Steve’s never heard a plant cry before.

They help Mike to his feet, all about to turn when a growl is let loose behind them. They pivot around, eyes falling on a snarling demodog.

Steve grips at Dustin’s shoulder when the kid fearfully acknowledges, “Dart.”

The ‘dog chitters at the sound of its name, flaps of his mouth opening slightly.

“What the fuck did you guys get me into…” Billy utters out, shock laced in his voice. 

Dustin starts to move forward, the group scrambling to get him back. He shushes them, asks them, “Trust me, _please_.”

Steve holds onto Billy’s wrist as they watch Dustin inch slowly closer to the creature.

“Hey,” Dustin eases out. “It’s me, it’s me.” He takes off the bandana and goggles, and Steve chokes on his next breath as Dustin goes to his knees. “It’s your friend, it’s Dustin. It’s Dustin, alright?” The monster stops when Dustin does, head titled. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

Its mouth opens, sharp teeth glinting in their flashlights as it lets out a loud snarl.

The group startles away, and Billy clutches back at Steve. The blond mutters under his breath, “Jesus fuck.” Steve agrees wholeheartedly. 

Dustin flinches at the sound, but continues to stutter out soothing words. The kid is crazy, but he’s got guts, Steve will give him that. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar.”

Steve watches in astonishment as the ‘dog closes its mouth at Dustin’s apology. He shushes Lucas when he calls Dustin insane as Henderson goes on to feed the demogod nougat of all things. As the ‘dog is distracted, Dustin motions everyone to pass, still talking to the creature.

Billy stays in the rear, as Steve moves to the front of the group. They wait as Dustin gets to his feet, says goodbye one last time to the ‘dog eating the candy.

They’re almost at the entrance when they hear a roar.

“They’re coming,” Mike tells them, scared. “Run, run!”

They run, cries of encouragement, be it helpful from the group or crude form Billy, sounding around them, but not loud enough to cover the howls and chatter that are getting closer.

Billy climbs up first, to help drag the kids out. Steve holds and pushes them up from the bottom, and it’s just him and Dustin left when the first demodog rounds the corner. 

Steve crowds Dustin behind him, wielding the bat in front of them. As if that would protect them from a hoard of monsters.

From above, the kids are pleading for Dustin to climb, and Steve hears Billy call out his name in a broken voice, right before the first ‘dog rushes them. Steve closes his eyes.

The ‘dogs run by, not stopping to take a bite, to attack. Their bodies rub up against Steve and Dustin, and Steve latches onto the kid to steady him as he almost gets knocked over. They watch incredulously as the monsters leave them alone, heading toward the other end of the tunnel.

From above, Mike says in revelation, “Eleven.”

That snaps Steve out of it, and he prompts Dustin to climb. “Come on, get out, come on.” Dustin scrambles up, grabbing onto Lucas’s hand for help. When he’s pulled out, Steve crawls up behind him. Billy’s hand comes into view, and Steve grips it, letting himself be pulled out the rest of the way, feet kicking at the slippery walls.

He tumbles out, falling on top of Billy where he’s sprawled in the dirt. Their chests heave together, and Steve lets himself be comforted by the vice-like hold Billy has on him, arms wrapped tight around Steve’s back.

“Don’t fucking do that stupid shit, again,” Billy hisses into Steve’s ear, before pressing a strong kiss to the side of Steve’s head. Steve nods into Billy’s neck, falling slack now that they’re out of that nightmare.

The two eventually detangle themselves from each other, getting to their feet as the kids do, too. They climb their way out of the ditch, and cover their eyes as the camaro’s headlights flash unnaturally bright, before going back to normal.

Steve takes in the moment, how they all got out in one piece, alive. He hopes everyone else is okay, that Eleven and the chief were able to close the gate, that Will is free.

He breathes in deep, and lets the air out slow.

It’s over, it’s done. They did their part.

He turns to his ragtag group, sees how they’re doing. The kids are huddled together, relief written on their faces. From where Billy still stands next to Steve, Max is on his other side. The two siblings aren’t touching, but the relaxed set of both of their shoulders from being in close proximity to each other is loud and clear to Steve.

“Let’s go,” he says, breaks the quiet. “Let’s go home.”

The kids shuffle into the back seat, Billy behind the wheel. Steve climbs through the passenger door, settles into the seat as his muscles finally relax.

Billy drives slower this time, now that there aren’t lives on the line. Mike protests when he sees that they’re heading toward his house, argues that they need to see Will and Eleven. Billy sighs long suffering, rolls his eyes so only Steve can see, and turns the car around without complaint. Tells them they’re going back to the Byers’ to see everyone, but they’re not staying. Steve backs him up, says it’s already past two in the morning; some people need to get home. Billy’s hands clench on the wheel.

The kids get their reunion. Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan are already there, Will laid out on his bed in his room. The boys trip over themselves in their urgency to see their friend, Max following behind at a more sedate pace. Steve lets out a chuckle at their juvenileness, watches Dustin practically climb over Mike to get into the room.

Twenty minutes later the chief comes in with an exhausted Eleven in tow, blood flaking off around her nose. She makes a beeline for Will’s room, Hopper heading to the kitchen where Joyce is puttering around.

Steve observes all this from his perch by the door. His eyes rove over to Nancy, sitting on the couch next to Jonathan. She meets his eyes, gives a tentative smile that Steve sends back. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t stay to make conversation, instead turning to go out the front door.

Billy’s leaning his elbows on the porch railing, cigarette held loosely between his fingers where his hands hang over. Steve comes to stand next to him, back to the rail. His side is touching Billy’s shoulder.

“How you holding up?”

Billy takes a strong pull from his cigarette, smoke exhaled through his nose before he answers. “This shit is bonkers. Knew something was messed up about this hick town, but,” he pauses, shakes his head, “well, I never imagined this.”

Steve nods, steals the cig from Billy’s hand to take his own puff. “I know what you mean. I’ve been here my whole life, and I still can’t wrap my head around it. Even though I’ve known for a year, it’s hard to understand.”

Billy hums, drags one last time before dropping the smoke over the railing. He turns around, mimics Steve’s pose, but more angled toward him. His hand rests on top of Steve’s. “At least you’re not in it alone. You’ve got all of them,” he nods his head toward the house.

Steve interlocks their fingers together. “Got you now, too.”

“Yeah,” Billy says, soft. “You do.”

*

Jonathan drops off Nancy, Mike, and Lucas, leaving Dustin to get into the camaro with Max. Hopper stands with his arm around Eleven, Joyce next to them on the porch. They say their goodbyes, promise to get together sometime tomorrow to sit down and talk about what went down on each of their ends.

Steve left the Beemer at Henderson’s, before they traipsed into the woods, looking for Dart. The car ride over is quiet, the only noise coming from the engine and the soft music coming from the radio.

When Billy pulls to a stop outside Dustin’s house, the four of them sit there for a moment.

“Thanks, uh,” Dustin starts, hesitant and awkward. “Thanks for your help today. All of you.”

Steve shrugs it off. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Any time, kid,” Billy says.

Max punches Dustin’s shoulder good naturally, states, “I’m your zoomer. I got your back.”

Smiling, cheeks a little pink, Dustin thanks them again, wishes them a goodnight as he climbs out. Steve gets out after him, walking around to the driver’s side to lean into Billy’s window. Dustin waits for him by the front door.

“Pick the two of us up tomorrow?” Steve asks.

“Sure,” Billy says, angles his head up for a brief kiss. Steve lets it linger, reveling in the comfort Billy settles in him. “We’ll get you around whatever time everyone agrees on.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles soft. Says quietly, seriously, “Come over if you need to get out tonight, okay?”

Billy smiles back, pecks Steve’s lips one last time. “I’ll be fine, with Maxine backing me up. But thanks. ‘ppreciate it.”

Steve nods and turns to look at Max, who’s making faces at Dustin out the window. “Night, Max. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Steve,” Max says back, climbing into the front seat, Billy emptily threatening to “not scuff my seats, shitbird, or else” while she does.

Steve shakes his head at their antics. Steps back as he watches them drive off, Billy throwing out a wave before pulling away. Goes up the walkway, getting himself ready to explain to Mrs. Henderson why he’s getting her son back so late.

“Alright, dipshit,” Steve ruffles Dustin’s hat, messing up his hair. “Let’s get this over with.” He rings the doorbell.

*

Steve drops Dustin off at the middle school for the Snowball Dance at six. When Dustin brings up the advice that Steve gave to him back in November, about acting like he doesn’t care, Steve instills a new, better lesson: show that you do care. Some people might not appreciate it, or even need it, but he’ll find someone who will care just as much as he does.

The only advice that doesn't change is that Dustin shouldn’t do the weird purring sound. No one enjoys that.

He watches Dustin walk into the school, catches sight of Nancy handing out drinks at the punch bowl. A small pang hurts in his chest, but it’s not as bad as it could be, Steve thinks. With one last look, he drives off.

He finds the blue camaro already in his driveway, pulling up to the left of it. Billy’s leaning against the driver door, leather jacket unzipped over an unbuttoned baby blue shirt. He’s at least wearing leather gloves, fingerless as they might be. Steve needs to take him shopping for proper Indiana winter attire, thinks about the cashmere navy scarf he has gift wrapped under his bed.

Billy walks with him to the front of the house, waits until they’re inside to pull Steve into a kiss. His lips are warm, a bit chapped from the cold weather. Steve runs his tongue over Billy’s lips, tastes cigarette smoke and something else, something like peppermint. Something sweet. Something just Billy.

Pulling away, he greets, “Hello to you, too.”

Billy nips at Steve’s bottom lip, licks over the smart to soothe it. “Hey, baby.”

Steve rests his arms around Billy’s waist, his boyfriend’s right hand coming up to tangle in Steve’s hair, the other cupping Steve’s jaw. Steve leans in for another kiss.

“So,” Steve breathes between presses of lips, “we gotta pick up the nerds in four hours. What do you want to do?”

Humming into the kiss, Billy says, “I’m sure we can think of something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> besides a [harringrove](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7etLShmce1DMzogNgCVj0g?si=s6djHpxVTtqHWkEF8u-pRg) playlist, i have a [steve](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IrfOXM3S26tknzah1pLD0?si=nz0ePR2dQL24aydiE-guYg) one and a [billy](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4ns41aUGiFAgu4Q6AqSmqf?si=UuV336wzTJG2m86UYUVUYg) one. give em a listen.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](https://hargrovebuckley.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/hargrovebuckley/)


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